Birthday Love Calendar
by AMT149
Summary: Harry tries to woo his Auror partner Draco into loving him back by his birthday while on a mission in Hong Kong. ON HOLD
1. Prologue: June 30th

Disclaimer: If they were mine, you should all be scared. Fortunately (or unfortunately), JKR owns them.

Author's Note: This is a birthday fic made up of short chapters. I wrote it as a present to myself as a birthday present (My birthday is July, 20th). Therefore, no negative, please. Questions, comments, and positive reviews are fine. Know that this is unbetaed. If you don't like, don't read and don't comment.

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><p><em>Prologue <em>— <em>June 30__th_

Harry couldn't help but watch Draco's search for the flies for the Wyclyve case. The blond was wearing plastic gloves pulled up to his elbows and searching with a disdainful but determined glare at the mess that made up Harry's half. It was a wonderful source of amusement and it didn't hurt that Harry had a great view of Draco's arse as he bent to dig through the papers on Harry's desk, rummage through Harry's drawers, throw random objects toward the trash….

"_Wait_! Don't throw those away!" Harry yelled, rushing away from the doorframe he was leaning on to save the old calendar pages Draco was shoving brutally into the overflowing trash can next to Harry's desk.

"These are from last year, Potter! They are a hindrance and are going to go," Draco huffed.

"They are not a hindrance!" Harry frowned. When had he left some of them out?

"Yes, they are!" Draco waved his arms wildly, gesturing around the office. "Look at this! You don't even _need_ half of this stuff. And no one can ever find anything in here because of it!"

Harry snorted. "Not true." He sauntered to the wobbly, wooden table behind his desk and uncovered a hidden folder with the words _Wyclyve — Confidential_ written across it. "You were saying?"

"You knew where it was this whole time?" Draco fumed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why Draco, didn't you know? I love to see you in distress."

"Oh very nice, Potter. I don't know how I managed to stand being Auror partners with you for all these years," Draco sniffed, snatching the folder as he passed Harry on the way out. "I'm telling Shacklebolt it's your fault we're going to be late for our meeting."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Harry rolled his eyes as he stuffed the calendar sheets into a drawer on the underside of his desk. Draco would never know, but the calendar pages he had found were actually transfigured sheets of unsent love letters and doodles Harry wrote unknowingly whenever he daydreamed about the Slytherin. It happened embarrassingly often, much to Harry's dismay. Draco had almost caught him doodling during a meeting once and nearly found out about Harry's year-long obsessive crush on Draco. It had scared the shit out of Harry. Sure, the he and Draco were partners and even friends now, but would Draco allow Harry as a lover? Harry realized had never tried to find out.

Harry's eyes narrowed in a burst of determination. Why _didn't_ he find out? He could tempt Draco into showing a little interest in him. Why not woo Draco a bit? And if Draco refused to love him back? Well, at least Harry would know and maybe then he would stop pinning after the blond.

Just before he left the office for the meeting he was now incredibly late for, Harry glanced at the _real_ calendar on his desk. _June 30__th_. Just a month from Harry's birthday. Yes, that would be the deadline for him. It was perfect; just like a little birthday present to himself. Harry vowed to win Draco's heart by July 31st.


	2. July 1st

Disclaimer: If I owned them, this wouldn't be posted here.

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><p><em>Chapter One — July 1<em>_st_

It was just past midnight when they finally arrived at the wizarding hotel in Hong Kong, the place Wyclyve was off to next, according to the Ministry's sources. Wyclyve and his partners were traveling to different countries, trading and buying internationally illegal dark artifacts and shipping them back to Britain to sell. The different Ministries over the world had agreed to allow the British Ministry to send a team of Aurors to help try to stop the black market trader. Harry and Draco were the best team they had, surprisingly, and they had been following the Wyclyve case from the very beginning. They were easily chosen as the team sent around the world to catch the international lawbreaker.

"Bathroom: acceptable…Sitting room: very nice…Closet: not big enough…" Draco ticked off as he stepped into the hotel room he and Harry were supposed to share. Suddenly, he froze halfway down the hall. "Why the bloody hell is there only one bed?"

Harry peeked around the corner where Draco was standing and staring — _sneering —_ at a bed. It was a rather nice, even considering though the ones he had slept in before on previous international Auror trips, and they were always very nice since Draco always picked the hotel. This bed was very elegant, almost as if it was a decoration, and yet it looked soft and comforting. Four fluffy white pillows along with three decorative ones, two squares and one cylindrical, sat atop the bed. Turquoise and gold decorative curtains graced the wooden headboard and a matching golden runner lay across the end of the bed. The bed looked deliciously inviting, in Harry's opinion, and the idea of sharing a bed with Draco definitely added to the 'delicious' part of that idea.

"Potter, must you be incapable of booking a hotel room with two beds?" Draco scowled.

"Sorry," Harry said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Well, you're sleeping on the sofa. I refuse to relinquish the bed due to your incompetence."

"The bed is fucking huge, Draco. Besides, there would be room left over even if you slept with your arms stretched to the fullest," Harry pointed out. "You wouldn't even notice we're sharing a bed."

Draco glared at him, the silent _I-don't-bloody-care _hanging in the air unsaid. Harry just grinned back.

"Fine," Draco eventually relented, "But if you so much as touch me in your sleep, I won't hesitate kick you off."

Harry just rolled his eyes, turning around and heading to the bathroom to change into nightclothes for a few hours of sleep before they had to start tracking Wyclyve.

When Harry made it back to the bedroom, he found that Draco had already slipped into bed and was buried among all of the fluffy pillows, his platinum hair splayed out around his head; the blue decorative pillows were tossed onto the ground, forgotten.

_He _would_ be a pillow hog_, Harry thought amusedly, opening his trunk to put his things away only to find Draco had claimed the closet and dresser save for one small drawer. A few wooden hangers were in the drawer, with a note saying 'Hang up your dress robes or they'll get wrinkled.' attached to it. Harry eyed the note amusedly and decided to steal a pillow and crawl into bed instead; he would unpack in the morning, just to annoy Draco.

xXxXxXx

Draco awoke in the afternoon to someone ringing the doorbell to the hotel room.

"Why is it so fucking bright?" He groaned, rolling out of bed and squinting his eyes at bright rays of sunlight streaming in through the glass wall in the sitting room that looked out over the Hong Kong sea view.

The doorbell chimed again. "Bloody Potter," Draco walked to the door, scowling and trying to smooth down his hair, "probably forgot the room password."

He opened the door to find a young bellboy at the door with a levitated tray piled with letters and a few packages behind him. "Hello," the bellboy said rather pleasantly, though his smile wavered a bit when he saw Draco's scowl.

He then proceeded to prattle off something in Chinese, to which Draco couldn't understand since he didn't have time to cast a translation charm.

"Could I get that English?" Draco asked, scowl darkening even more.

"I have a delivery for the guests in room 3807, would that be you, sir?"

"Yes," Draco answered, his tone still crabby from just waking up. "I'm in the room, aren't I?"

"Here you go." The bellboy picked up the stack of letters from the tray and handed it to Draco before turning around again.

Assuming that was all, Draco started to shut the door again, only to have the bellboy yelp, "Wait!"

"What now?" Draco snapped.

"This is for you too," the bellboy said, plopping a bouquet of blood red roses before moving down the hallway. "Sign here."

Slamming the door behind him, Draco made his way back into the sitting room, placing the letters and flower on the round dining table by the wall of windows.

"Letters from Kingsley...Potter fan mail...Chinese Ministry of Magic...Potter fan mail...Letters from Mother...and more Potter fan mail," Draco muttered as he sorted the letters into piles. He glared at the significantly larger pile. "Why must Potter get all this fan mail even when he's out of the country?"

He then turned his gaze to the roses. He supposed it was from another ridiculous Boy-Who-Lived fangirl, since neither he nor Harry were seeing anyone at the moment, and therefore was surprised to see his own name written across the outside in a flowing script. Inside was a drawing of a miniature calendar showing the month of July. A tiny red heart was drawn around the little '1' that marked the first. Two lines were also written, also in red ink, under the calendar:

_1573  
><em>_一往情深_

Folded inside the card was a note:

_Dearest Draco,  
><em>_How would you take it if I told you I fancied you? You might think I was fooling around, joking, teasing.  
><em>_But it's the truth. That's why I won't tell you who I am. Not yet.  
><em>_Please don't reject me right away — give me a month to try to persuade you, tell you how I feel about you.  
><em>_If you want me gone by the end of this time, I won't bother you again. But I ask a month.  
><em>_Thirty-One roses for Thirty-One days._

There was no signature.

_A secret admire, then?_ Draco thought, eyebrows rising in amusement. He couldn't think of anyone he knew who would bother with something so childish. Silly as it was, Draco couldn't help but feel a little flattered to receive an anonymous love letter. Besides, Draco loved a mystery; it was one of the reasons he became an Auror and everyone knew it.

Just then, the lock on the hotel door clicked and Harry stepped into the room, cheeks flushed and dripping with sweat.

"Harry. Shower. Now. I will not have you contaminate the room this early into the trip."

"Merlin, it's hot out; that's the best idea you've had all day. Not that you've had many, I assume, since you look like you just got up," Harry teased, pulling off his outer robes as he spoke.

"There _is_ a time difference," Draco sniffed. "And I look perfectly fine the way I am."

"Never said you looked any other way," Harry replied. "But you missed the meeting with the Chinese Ministry. They understood about the jet lag; there wasn't much they needed to talk about anyway. Just said they'd assist us to the best of their abilities, they want Wyclyve to be captured too, you know, that stuff. They sent you a formal letter since you weren't there. Did you get it?"

At this point, Harry looked at the letters Draco was standing next to and caught sight of the roses. "Someone send flowers?"

"Yes," Draco answered stiffly.

"Who?"

"Doesn't say. Some secret admire."

"Lucky you, eh?" Harry grinned before ducking into the bathroom.

"Yeah, lucky me," Draco said to himself, glancing at the bouquet out of the corner of his eye.

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><p>AN: Yeah so it's really cheesy fluff. I wrote this while waiting at the bank today and this came out … this chapter was really long. The room described is actually my hotel room in Macau, but the view is the one I'm looking at outside my window right now in Hong Kong. Pictures will be posted on my LJ.

Just incase anyone's wondering; half of the places/things I'll include in the story are actually places I went to and saw ^_^ And the little Chinese thing with the numbers is actually what Chinese people use for texting, chats, IM, etc. See this link for more explanations: www (dot) yellowbridge (dot) com (slash) chinese (slash) pagercodes (dot) php

~TBC~


	3. July 2nd

Disclaimer: Own all of this? That lucky person is JKR, not me.

Author's Note: Just for clarification, automatically assume that all dialogue (unless otherwise stated), is in Chinese, with Harry/Draco under a translation charm. An exception to this rule is when Harry and Draco are talking in private (i.e. in their hotel), where they will be speaking in English.

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><p><em>Chapter Two<em> _— July 2__nd_

"So what exactly is Wyclyve going after this time?" Harry asked, shuffling through papers at the desk while Draco laid belly-down on the couch next to him, reading.

"Viviane's Lake."

"He's going after a _lake_?" Harry snorted. "Good luck carrying that back to Britain."

Draco looked up from the book he was reading to glare at Harry. "Viviane's Lake is not a large body of water, Harry."

"Then why is it called a lake?"

Draco sighed, "Didn't you even look up the items the files specifically tell you to?"

"I don't remember reading that in the files," replied Harry, frowning.

"I'll bet you didn't read past the first page," Draco drawled.

"I read the first two pages, thank you very much!" Harry burst out, scowling when Draco smirked. "Fine! So maybe I don't read all of the pages. You research them all anyway. Now are you going to tell me what this Viviane's Lake is?"

Draco smirked in triumph for a moment before handing Harry the book he was reading, sliding his finger down the page to point at a marked section. "Viviane's Lake is actually the nickname of a magical mirror. All it takes in a drop of your blood and everyone you love and come to love in the future will die. Furthermore, every time you look into a reflective surface, you'll see your beloved asking you why you didn't save them until you die."

Harry made a face. "That is sick. Why would anyone make something like that?"

"Legend has it that Viviane was a goddess who fell in love with a wizard. The wizard craved the powers that the goddess gave him as gifts and pretended to return her love. It worked for years and both were content until one day, when the wizard fell in love with a witch. He gave up the goddess' gifts to him in exchange for a life with the witch. The goddess was heartbroken and angered to find out about the façade. In revenge, she transfigured the lake she and the wizard first met at into a mirror. She then cursed the mirror and watched as the wizard's loved ones died and left him. She thought that without any of those people in her way, he would return to her. On the contrary, when the wizard found his lover dead the next morning, he killed himself in a love suicide. Viviane died of depression soon after," Draco explained, tapping the book. "The full story is in here."

"Well that was stupid of her," Harry scoffed, looking up from the book. "So why does Wyclyve want this mirror?"

Draco shrugged elegantly. But then again, Draco did everything elegantly. "To sell, most likely. From what we know, Wyclyve usually sells the artifacts he goes after once he gets back to Britain. You know that."

"Yes, I suppose. But according to our informant, he's been more serious about getting this artifact than any of his past findings. And according to the black market, Viviane's Lake isn't worth nearly half as much as the other objects he's procured," Harry pointed out, handing Draco a piece of paper. The numbers was charmed to change to the most recent black market prices.

"We should meet with the informant soon," said Draco, "Send an owl asking if they'll meet us and if so, when and where. And buy something to eat while you're at it." _Yes! A perfect excuse to go out_!

Harry quickly scratched out a letter to their informant, addressing it to Phier. Harry doubted that was the informant's real name, but it was the only name they had been given. "I'll be right back," he nodded to Draco before slinking out.

xXxXxXx

Harry walked through the wizarding section of Wan Chai, the district in Hong Kong he and Draco were staying in. It didn't take long to find the Owl Post Office and send off the letter. Now he was inside the same flower store he had bought the roses from the day before.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter. Buying flowers for your boyfriend again?" The young florist asked in accented English, peeking out from behind a bucket of flowers on the counter that she had been trimming with flicks of her wand. She had recognized him as the Boy-Who-Lived the first time he stepped into the store and had excitedly greeted him in English instead of Chinese.

"Not my boyfriend yet," Harry reminded the girl. "But yes, I'd like to get him flowers again."

She laughed and waved her hand as if swiping the thought away. "I'm sure he'll be your boyfriend soon enough. I'm a little busy today, however, and I hope you won't mind if my younger sister helps you today?"

"Not a problem at all," Harry conceded.

The florist gave him a grateful smile and walked to the 'staff only' part of the store as a younger witch came out. She had long, curly, chappatsu hair and she was wearing a cream-colored apron on top of a pink, sweet Lolita outfit. "Hello, looking for courtship flowers, Mr. Potter?" She asked, her tone much too snarky for someone dressed as if she belonged in an _Alice in Wonderland _movie. Harry glanced at her nametag. _Avril_, it said.

"Yes," Harry replied. "I sent red roses, yesterday. Have you anything else to recommend?"

"Too typical. How about red tulips for a declaration of love," Avril suggested, pointing with her wand and drawing flowers into a bouquet toward her as she spoke. "red chrysanthemums, also symbolic of love, and of course yellow roses show..."

xXxXxXx

**…**  
><em>Yellow roses show our friendship (be careful o<em>_f the thorns; our friendship was never too smooth).  
><em>_Blue roses represent a mystery, a never ending quest for the impossible.  
><em>_Hibiscuses are symbolic of your delicate beauty (though, do not think it too girly, for I must admit you are handsome as well)  
><em>_Jonquils are a request for returned love._

_And puzzle, for your love for a challenge and a clue._

Draco smiled as he finished the letter accompanying today's gift. Draco had eyed the flowers with distain when the bellboy handed them over that afternoon. What kind of person would make such an odd bouquet as a gift? _Loony Lovegood_,_ perhaps_, Draco had thought, but the note from the day before was much too…sane...for someone like her to be the one sending the gifts. Now that he had read the reasons for the tacky-but-thoughtful flowers, Draco was almost completely placated. It was still strange that someone — a friend, apparently — fancied him to the point of sending gifts. Not that he didn't deserve them, of course. All Malfoys deserved adoring fans.

Draco opened the box containing, according to the note, the puzzle supposed to contain a clue. He gasped, picking up a single puzzle piece for a closer look. It was a picture. Which one, Draco couldn't tell, as it was spread out into a thousand little pieces. Quickly dumping the puzzle onto an empty area on the table, Draco started putting the pieces to the mystery together.

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><p>** Phier is pronounced "Fire".<p>

A/N: To those who might be wondering…the Wylcyve case will be explained more next chapter. These picture puzzles are real things that you can get made; stores that do this are all over Hong Kong. And for chappatsu hair and Lolita outfits, etc, please Google it if you need help for understanding. Also…

Tacky Flower Bouquets for Reviews?


	4. July 3rd

Disclaimer: *disclaims*

A/N: Waaa~ I meant to post this on my birthday, but then I had a few computer problems *sniffles pitifully*

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><p><em>Chapter Three — July 3rd<em>

Draco and Harry were continuing with their research when the bellboy came by with a letter back from Phier. It was a short message in a loopy girly handwriting.

_The girl with green hair and nails. Kamikaze Grottos, Lamma Island. 3-5pm.  
>-Phier<em>

It was still early in the morning, so the two partners decided to make the most of their trip and go sightseeing before the appointed time. Half an hour later the Auror team apparated into a wizarding building on Lamma Island. Lamma Island was a muggle area, but there were quite a few hidden wizarding buildings that muggles saw as trees and other plants tangled in a heap.

They spent most of the morning walking — _hiking_ — up the mountain that made up muggle Lamma Island, enjoying the view. They had brought along a wizarding camera (glamoured to look like a muggle camera) and took turns snapping pictures of random things they saw. The sea view was beautiful, with mountains and skyscrapers on the other side tinted blue in contrast to the naturistic greens of the island around them. The sky was cloudy, although the sun managed to bear down on them and was therefore responsible for sweat marks on their shirts, much to Draco's dismay.

"No amount of cooling charms can outdo this fucking heat!" Draco fumed, popping open a few buttons of his shirt in a desperate attempt to cool down. He did not notice Harry's eyes taking in the shiny pale skin of the top of his chest revealed.

"Want to share a twin popsicle?" Harry asked, pointing to the vendor not too far in front of them on the path.

"Sure," Draco agreed eagerly, fanning himself with his hands. "Anything to help cool down."

Harry grinned and bounded ahead. By the time the blond caught up with him, he had one stick of the lime-and-pineapple twin popsicle broken off and was sucking and licking it quite *innocently* while holding the other stick out toward Draco. Draco told himself he was thinking too much and grabbed his own popsicle in a mission to devour as it was determined to melt all over him in a matter of seconds.

After lunch in one of the restaurants at the end of the path, the two friends continued walking through the tiny muggle shops. They would enter a store together, wander off on their own for about five minutes, buy anything that caught their fancy, and then meet the other by the door. In Draco's opinion, the shops were much too plebian for his taste, but he was grateful beyond reason that they had those machines that muggles used in place of cooling charms. He would probably never understand why Harry had insisted to go through all of the Muggle tourist areas in the morning, but if put under veriterserum, Draco would probably admit that he, too, was having fun. Besides, it was amusing to watch Potter run around and picking up trinkets like a little kid.

xXxXxXx

Unfortunately, as the muggles say, time flies when you're having fun, and three in the afternoon approached them. Harry and Draco apparated from one of the hidden wizarding shops to the cave mentioned by Phier as Draco absolutely refused to walk all the way back to the other side of the mountain when there were much more comfortable methods of transportation.

As they approached the back wall of the cave that the muggles marked as historical due to Japanese bombing, Harry prodded Draco in the arm. "She's not here."

"Obviously," Draco sneered, rolling his eyes. He knew he sounded crabby, but he had had to walk in the blasted heat for hours and there was something familiar about Phier's handwriting. He had spent most of the morning trying to figure out what it was that bothered him.

"Let's sit and wait," Harry suggested, plopping down on a rock and patting the one next to him.

Draco scrunched up his nose. "That rock is filthy." Instead, he wandered the back wall.

"Suit yourself," Harry replied, pulling out the files again to read them over.

Draco made a noise of acknowledgement as he traced the back wall with a finger. Unlike the rest of the cave's walls, it was not made up of a pile of rocks, but rather smooth and flat with a few rocks poking out of the lower part of the wall. Curious, he pushed at the wall, and was surprised to see it go through.

"Harry," he called over his shoulder. There was a pause in the noise of papers ruffling and Draco knew Harry was looking at him. "I think the wall's just a magical barrier, like the wall leading to Platform 9¾."

Draco waited until he could hear Harry's footsteps behind him before he pushed harder and walked straight through the wall. The scene before him was incredible. He was standing in a long, angular room. The smooth, magic-honed, stone walls were charmed to show the lists of artifacts and their prices. Black Market dealers were all over, exchanging galleons and HKD, slipping each other dark artifacts, and casting silencing bubbles to argue in.

"Wow," said Harry as he stepped into the room behind Draco. Draco nodded. Even his father, who participated in dark trading circles, never told him about hidden places like this, if he knew about them. Harry quickly cast glamour on himself. When Draco raised an eyebrow at the action, Harry explained, "I'm famous for catching people like these, Draco. We don't want any excess attention."

"Good idea." Draco agreed. "I see her, over there."

He nodded toward a girl across the room with a head of vivid lime green hair that could not be achieved by dyeing. A black hat with white lace sat crookedly on the side of her head. She wore a frilly dress in the punk Lolita style; the chest and the long sleeves of the dress were designed like a blouse with black ruffled short sleeves over it. The skirt was layered, white on bottom, black on top. Black bows decorated the flared sleeves, chest, and neck-tight collar and matched the bows tied with the ribbons of the girl's stilettos that wrapped around the girl's ankles.

When they got closer, they could tell the girl was slumped against the stone wall and twirling an unlit muggle cigarette through her fingers; fingers with nails the same color as her hair and little sparkly black skull-and-crossbones stickers on each one.

"You're Phier?" Harry asked, reaching the girl first.

"Pretty boy, you're the one the Ministry sent?" The girl straightened and gave Harry a look-over. "You look too stubborn to work with me."

"I am not stubborn!" Harry protested.

"You can be," Draco drawled, coming up behind them.

Phier's kohl-lined brown eyes widened in recognition as she took in Draco's appearance. "House of Malfoy?"

"Yes, Draco Malfoy," Draco confirmed.

She smirked. "Very well, my people have done business with the Malfoys before."

Harry gave Draco a look. "My ancestors were familiar with Dark artifact trading." Draco shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'm evil as well."

Phier laughed and applauded him. "Very good. I like the way you do things, Draco Malfoy. I will work with you. Will you introduce me to you friend?"

"Harry Potter," Draco nodded towards the brunet. "You must have heard of him before?"

She raised her eyebrow, swiftly flipping her cigarette around in her fingers until she had it in a wand grip and pointed it at Harry. "Finite Incantatem."

Harry's glamour dropped and the girl's eyes flashed in recognition. She nodded and smirked, "I see. Well, what else do you need to know? I have told the Ministry what I can."

"We could do with your real name," Harry suggested, putting up his glamour again before anyone could see.

"I can't tell you that," Phier smirked, and "I still have to run a business here."

"We should arrest you for working in the black market," Harry growled, shaking his wand from his wrist holster and into his hand.

"But we can't," Draco pointed out, blocking Harry from raising his wand. "This is Chinese territory, Harry; we only have permission to arrest those involved with Wyclyve."

"Listen to your boyfriend, Potter," Phier sneered.

"He's not -"

"Your boyfriend yet, I know," She cut him off. Harry tried not to blush as Draco eyed him suspiciously.

"How -" Harry started to ask, but the girl had already turned and leaned over so her mouth was next to Draco's ear.

"My name is Avril. But don't let your partner know or I'll hex your balls off," Phier breathed. "And yes, I do know a spell for that."

Draco nodded slowly, confused, but quickly snapping back into Auror mode. He pulled out a Quick Quotes Quill, sucked on the tip, and placed it onto a sheet of parchment. "You don't mind if I take notes, do you?" Avril shook her head. "Well, what do you know about Wyclyve?"

"I told the Ministry already," The green haired girl spoke in English. Spoken translation charms tended to confuse the quill. "Robert's been bothering me for ages about Viviane's Lake and I want him to stay the hell away from me."

"Why has he been bothering you about it?" Draco questioned.

Avril sighed impatiently, her pretty face twisted into a scowl. "Because he wants me to sell it to him, stupid."

"You have Viviane's Lake?" Harry shouted in surprise. Avril glared at him and waved her cigarette-wand, casting a silencing bubble around them.

"Of course I have it. But I don't plan to sell it to Robert."

"What was his price?" Draco asked as the same time Harry asked "Why didn't you turn it in?"

Avril merely smirked as the two partners looked at each other in disbelief.

"Why didn't she turn it in? Are you brainless, Potter?"

"Well, she should have! It's a Dark Artifact!"

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. "She's a Black Market dealer! Putting herself out of business is a bit counter-productive, isn't it?"

"But it's illegal to own it! We should confiscate it!" Harry exclaimed, waving his arms, agitated.

Avril snickered, causing both boys to startle. They had forgotten her presence during their little fight. "That's why I don't have it on me, idiots. Besides, it doesn't matter what his price was, because it was passed down for generations in my family. I don't plan to ever sell it."

Draco nodded in understanding. His own father had left him many Malfoy heirlooms and even though he never wanted to turn out like his ancestors, he couldn't stand the idea of being the Malfoy to break the tradition.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly messing up his hair. "Do you know why Wyclyve wants the mirror?"

Avril frowned as she thought it over. "I can't be sure, but I think he wants to use it on someone. He keeps offering high prices and saying that he _needs_ it for something. Won't tell me what, though."

"Who does he want to use it on?"

"Don't know," Avril shrugged. "I don't pay attention to what Robert does. I don't know who he has good or bad relationships with."

"What would you say your relationship with Wyclyve is like?" Draco asked, watching the Chinese girl carefully. "Friends? Family? Business partners?"

"Ex-lovers."

"What?" Harry gaped at her.

"We dated for a bit several years back. I was Robert's last girlfriend. It's like he gave up on love when he found out I was only playing with him," Avril shrugged. "I never really cared about our relationship. Didn't think he did either until we broke up."

"You never thought he might want to use the mirror on you?" Draco asked.

"He might," Avril replied nonchalantly, studying her nails as if she hadn't just admitted her ex was planning to kill everyone she cared about.

"You're not worried?"

"He can't hurt me," She sneered, "He doesn't have the mirror. I do."

Draco nodded and turned to Harry, silently asking him if he had any more questions. Harry turned back to Avril. "Are you sure Wyclyve won't be able to get his hands on the mirror?"

"Only my sister, other than myself, knows where it's hidden," She confirmed. "And to be quite honest, I'm not on the best of terms with my sister, so my house is warded against her."

"How should we contact you, if need be?"

"Send an owl. Or come visit me."

"Visit you?" inquired Draco.

"At my flat. Tap your wand three times on the door and I'll know it's you." She ripped off a corner of the parchment and tapped her glamoured wand on it. An address began writing itself in an elegant, flowing, script. She handed it to Draco, who slipped it into his pocket. "Will that be all?"

"Why did you meet us here? Aren't you afraid we'll tell the Ministry where you Black Market Dealers meet?" Harry wondered out loud.

"Oh, very well, ruin my fun," Avril sighed, twirling her cigarette-wand dramatically. "I thought I wouldn't have to obliviate you, but since you plan on telling, I guess I can —"

"We aren't planning on telling," Draco injected hurriedly, giving Harry a _what-did-you-say-that-for?_ glare. "but what if we did? You don't seem all that concerned about it."

Avril smirked. "I'm _not_ concerned about it. There's a charm on the passageway that you came in. Binds you so that you can't let anyone know where the cave is. You couldn't tell even if you wanted to."

"That's dark magic," Harry noted.

"Most that use this cave are dark wizards, or wizarding mafia," Avril explained. She pointed her wand to the side and cast a temprus. The conjured numbers indicated ten minutes to five in the afternoon. "My, does time fly. Until we meet again, then." And with a crack, the green-haired girl disapperated.

xXxXxXx

By the time the two Aurors finally got back to the hotel, Draco had already whined Harry's ear off.

"I'm so tired; I don't think I'll walk for a week. You'll have to carry me to the tub, Potter. Bridal-style, please, it's much more comfortable," Draco ordered jokingly, flopping backwards onto the soft, fluffy bed. His silver-blond hair was in disarray, not sticking up like Harry's did, but rather like a post-shag type of messy.

To Harry's mortification, he felt his face flush red for a moment before he turned his head away. "Shall I levitate you then?" Harry was relieved to hear his voice sound calm, and with a teasing edge to boot. "I must warn you, though; I'm quite tired and won't be held responsible if I drop you on your head."

"Prat." Harry could practically hear Draco's eye roll. There was a shuffle of the sheets and then Draco was shuffling past him and into the bathroom. "I'll be taking an extra-long bath to save myself from this long, painful walk you could have saved me from."

Normally, Harry would have groaned in agitation — Draco's 'extra-long showers' usually lasted at least a full three hours long. Tonight, however, Harry was grateful. Quickly, he pulled the camera out of his robes and hit it with a developing spell. In minutes, Harry had a pile of pictures he and Draco had taken from their sightseeing trip before and after their meeting with Phier. He flipped through the photos, pausing to smile at a few of them. There was one of Draco, shirt unbuttoned halfway, blond hair blowing in the wind as he licked his green and yellow popsicle as he looked out toward the sea. Another photo featured Draco in one of the muggle shops, pretending to be bored but peeking around when he thought no one was looking.

After nearly two hours of riffling through pictures, picking out a few significant and favorite photos, and casting duplication spells, Harry can finally completed his little project.

A scrapbook, one Harry had bought from Lamma Island, was decorated and filled with pictures, complete with captions. Other than a few blank spaces purpously left out for Draco to add his own favorites, there were landscape pictures, portraits of Draco, but what was the most unique about it were the pictures of the graffiti all over Lamma Island. What made them unique was that they were artistic and more decorative than destructive.

_'Love is All You Need'_, '_LOVE'_, and_ '__I [heart] __U' _were examples of words written on the wall in multi-colored and rainbow paints.

Harry had just finished his last sticking charm when the doorbell rang. A quick thanks to the bellboy and his gift to Draco for the day was complete. A wicker basket of roses sat atop the sitting room table next to the half-finished puzzle from the day before. The scrapbook, with the daily letter stuck to the inside cover, was tucked in snuggly next to the flowers.

"Who came by?" Draco's voice floated out from the bathroom.

Harry smiled. "Your admirer, of course."

* * *

><p>AN: Thoughts on Phier/Avril? Robert Wyclyve? Does anyone see what I'm doing with them? I'm starving for feedback here! (Common, it's my birthday, pleeeease?)


	5. July 6th Part One

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the OCs.

**Warning:** Major amount of OCs (well, _duh_, considering they're in a different country...)

A/N: Please **pay attention** **to the** **dates**. I'm going to skip a few days now and then. Also, please assume that whenever Avril/Phier talks to Harry or Draco, it is in English unless otherwise noted. When she talks to people other than Harry/Draco, she will be speaking Chinese. Also, Chinese puns/saying/text will be explained/translated where the asterisk (*) is at the bottom.

Also, does anyone else notice how every chapter is longer than the last? I guess my fingers refused to follow my orders when I said they'd be short chapters, so **I split this chapter into two parts**

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><p><em>Chapter 4 — July 6<em>_th__ (Part One)_

"Fine! Solve the bloody case on your own then!"

How dare Potter call accuse him of being a lazy arse? Draco had done nearly all the research for the case! It wasn't his fault that after two days of searching they still hadn't found Wyclyve's hideout! Potter wasn't the only one irritated that they hadn't made as much progress as they usually did, but Draco hadn't went and threw a tantrum about it. He had only suggested to Harry that they take a day off and start fresh the next day. And then Potter had blown up at him and called him lazy among a plethora of obscene things.

Well, then! He would make much more progress on his own. That would show Potter just who was the lazy one!

The first thing Draco registered was that he had wandered away from the hotel while he was mental ranting and was now on a street in the middle of nowhere.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Apparating to the places he did recognize was out of the question, as he and Harry had already searched them from top to bottom with no results whatsoever. Besides, apparition wasn't always the safest way to travel in Hong Kong, since the streets were so tightly packed with people there wasn't anywhere to land.

Draco reached into his pocket for his wand, when his fingers brushed over a scrap of paper. Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, he pulled it out.

_No. 59.5 駿業街, 觀塘_  
><em>Flat 14A<br>__Tap the door three times with your wand.  
><em>_-Phier_

Draco grinned and apparated away.

xXxXxXx

Harry felt like an idiot. He had yelled at Draco for no reason. Well, he did have a reason, but it was half-arsed and going into a mental battle with himself about why he did what he did wasn't going to change the fact that his crush and partner was gone. Fuck.

Running a hand through his unruly black hair, Harry sighed and stared down at the papers scattered around the room, remnants of the fight. He had to admit that most of the bookwork and notes belonged to Draco. Harry usually just played on Gryffindor luck and bravery to hunt down the culprit. Unfortunately, they had sought out every wizarding part of Hong Kong Island they could find, to no results. It had been hard finding those societies in the first place, Harry reflected. In fact, there were so few of them it should be abnormal. Yet they were the type of places Wyclyve had typically left a trail in while visiting other countries; Pureblood trading centers, casinos, bars. It made sense, since those were generally common places for deals in the dark sense to be made. It was true that they had never known who held the object of Wyclyve's interests like they did now, with Phier, but it didn't make a difference to searching on their own, did it? Harry instinctively felt that there was something fishy going on with the sneering green-haired girl, and had really hoped to use her as a last resort.

Mouth twisting into a grimace, Harry went through the notes they'd made on the common wizarding hangouts. There was something he was missing that he couldn't quite put his finger on. The cave on Lamma Island...it wasn't at all like the wizarding areas that Wyclyve was known to be spotted at. He usually stayed in public areas, conducting business in secret. Why was it that Phier brought them to a selling place that Wyclyve wouldn't set foot in, if she wanted him caught as well? It didn't even make sense, why she wanted him caught. Couldn't she just turn down the offer and ignore him?

Deciding to do what he always did when he felt that a point was blindingly obvious yet totally beyond him, Harry decided to send a letter to Hermione for her opinion. Then, he would apparate back to Lamma Island and _search_. Maybe if he made some progress on his own, Draco would be too occupied to be angry at him. Not that Harry had too much hope. Oh well, he'd think of an apology by the time Draco came around.

xXxXxXx

The door to Avril's flat was much too ordinary for the Punk-Black-Market-Bad-Girl style the girl sported, in Draco's opinion. It was the color of honeyed oak, with a golden door handle and gate.

Reaching his wand past the gate to tap on the door, Draco wondered what he would find on the other side. He wasn't even sure if Avril lived in a muggle or wizarding area.

"Oh, it's you."

Draco studied the girl standing in the doorway opening the gate. This girl had the black hair all Chinese were born with and wide yet almond-shaped brown eyes so dark they could pass for black. Her features resembled Avril, though she was a bit shorter. The greatest difference, however, was the clothing the girl wore. This girl wore a white T-shirt with a pink design on it and beige shorts. Draco frowned. Was this Avril's sister? He was sure Avril had said her relationship with her sister wasn't very good.

"Well?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow when Draco started at her voice. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?"

"Er…" Draco hesitated. "Is Avril home?"

The girl rolled her eyes and glared at him while dragging Draco into the flat, slamming the gate and door closed behind her. "I _am_ Avril, idiot! And must you announce it to the world what my name is? You know I hide my real identity."

Draco eyed Avril suspiciously. "You don't look like Avril. Or Phier, if that's what you'll insist on being called."

"Of course I don't." She rolled her eyes while plopping down onto a sofa and picking up a half-eaten, spicy seafood-flavored Cup Noodles. "I'm a metamorphagus. It's impossible to have hair that shade of lime green otherwise." She changed the color of her hair to said color as a demonstration.

"Oh."

In a desperate attempt to recover from feeling like the dunderhead Avril made him look like, Draco's eyes swept the room for something to comment on. It was surprisingly bright for someone involved in the Dark Arts or otherwise. The furniture was either made of light-colored wood or it was fluffy to the point that it reminded Draco of the poofs in Trelawney's classroom. The walls were painted the color of champagne and were decorated with golden candle holders. A matching chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. There was a muggle telly hanging on one wall, but right next to it was a Wizarding Wireless. Draco still couldn't figure out whether or not it was a muggle or wizarding flat. The only thing he determined was that the whole room looked like a cup of peaches and cream.

Draco was starting to seriously doubt that this was the same girl he had met in the stone cave. Other than the snarky attitude, there was no resemblance. And speaking of the stone cave, he really ought to ask Avril if she had any idea where he could find more information on Wyclyve's activities.

"You're here for more questions, I presume? I'm sure you want to ask me where to find Robert, since you didn't last time."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the girl. Was she a Legilimens?

"I'm not, you know."

_Well, that wasn't very convincing._

"You don't believe me," Avril commented with a smirk.

"Stop reading my thoughts!" Draco exclaimed.

"Your eyes are an open book, Pretty Boy."

Draco scowled, turning away from the girl. Her attitude was even worse that his on his worst day and he had studied under Lucius Malfoy. Why had he sought her out again? Oh right, because they hadn't dug out any new information on Wyclyve and he wanted to show Potter that he was capable of doing it on his own. "We've searched all of the wizarding hangouts in all of Hong Kong and half of the ones in Kowloon. There aren't that many and they're fairly small, but we couldn't find anything to do with Wyclyve."

"That's because you're looking at it from the wrong perspective," Avril said as she emptied the soup into the kitchen sink and tossing the Styrofoam cup and wooden chopsticks away. "Robert may hang out in wizarding areas when he's in other countries, but that's because the difference between wizards and muggles are much more defined. That is not the case here."

Draco frowned, taking a seat on the couch Avril had perched on once again. "What are you getting at?"

"You looked in all-wizarding areas, correct?" Draco nodded slowly. Avril sighed. "Those are mostly pureblood establishments. The ones who think wizards should stick with wizards. You'd have more luck looking in muggle areas for Robert."

"You're saying all half-bloods live like muggles?" he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Merlin! And he had thought blood status differences in England were bad.

"No, of course not. We blend the two cultures," Avril explained. "Most wizards use a combination of muggle technology and magic to create their own style of living. It's all because there are too many people on this tiny little island. There's not much room for two different worlds on this land, but it's just plain pathetic if we give up magic. The funny thing is, people always mistake us for muggles. It really does take one to know one, so to speak, when you're looking for half-blood society."

"But you can't combine muggle things with magic."

"The place is so deprived of magic that the muggle technology won't go haywire," Avril pointed out. "And we really only take what wizards don't have and if we can, we magicfy it, so to speak."

Draco chose to stay silent since he was confused as hell. Avril must have caught this look in his eyes as well, because she explained.

"You see, sometimes muggles have ideas that witches and wizards don't. Take a mobile, for instance. The closest things wizards have are two-way mirrors. The only problem with two-way mirrors are that they only work with, well, two mirrors. Mobiles work better because they can connect to more than just one other device, and instead of sending letters, you can sms someone and they'll get it much quicker. There are drawbacks, of course, but we have magical means — patronuses, for instance — that we can use while muggles are limited. And sometimes we just adapt to muggle methods. I do rather like muggle clothing, for example."

"So you're saying we should live like muggles if we want to catch Wyclyve?" Draco asked, his eyes wide in horror. He may not be quite so prejudiced against muggles anymore, but he really only didn't mind them because he made sure they didn't affect the way he lived his life.

"Technically, you'll be acting like a wizard, since that's how most wizards act. Or the ones that matter, anyway," Avril added as an afterthought, her voice dripping with distain. "I can show you a few of our places, if you want," she offered. "Perhaps you'll run into Robert of one of his goons."

"Why are you doing this?" Draco asked suddenly. "You claim you're a black market dealer, a member of a wizarding mafia, yet you don't act of look like one. Why are you being so open and light and optimistic? Hell, who _are_ you?"

"I wasn't always so dark, you know." Draco watched as the girl curled up on the sofa, tucking her knees under her chin with a thoughtful look. "I used to be such a bright little girl. My sister and I, we used to be the best of friends. We were always together; it didn't matter if we were learning, playing, sleeping...we loved each other.

"But then there were our parents. Mum and Dad were both pureblood supremacists. I wasn't. I loved wizarding culture, but it was so much more fun going Street Racing instead of playing Quidditch or wearing muggle fashions instead of dress robes.

"My parents had been so proud of me before. I was the better witch out of me and my sister. But after they found out I wasn't about to follow in their footsteps, they stopped loving me. Hell, I don't think they've ever loved me. They had always doted on my sister while I was always ignored. Even after I showed that I was much more powerful — had much more _talent_ — all they did was force me into extra training. They always gloated to others about producing such a strong child, but never once had I been praised directly." A shadow came upon Avril's eyes. Her fingers clutched at the sofa, her nails twisting into the pale cushion at the memory.

"I supposed I realized my parents didn't care about me and I took to wandering at night after my sister was asleep. I didn't want to run into my parents, if they happened to go out that night, so I took refuge in half-blood areas. I didn't know enough about muggles to travel in their crowds. One of these nights, I met Robert. He was a popular Street Racer, and the first time I saw him, he was behind a wheel. I don't know why — maybe it was because he didn't recognize me as one of the fangirls or the friends he hung out with — but he came up to me after the race. He taught me about crossing muggle and wizarding ways of living. He didn't know I was a pureblood then; I was just Phier, a confused girl on the street. I didn't realize it at the time, but he started waiting for me in the same place as the first night. He hung out less with his group and ignored the fans. Perhaps he was merely fascinated with the strange, new girl," Avril added, her eyes lost in thoughts a million miles away. "It didn't matter to me. I had friends and I felt cared for. I was happy.

"And then my sister ruined it all by catching me. Apparently she had been suspicious of me for a while and was collecting evidence. I begged her not to tell Mum and Dad. I didn't want to loose what little love they had for me. She told me that she hated me for my abilities. Why did I have to be powerful when she was the one that deserved it? I was a disgrace to the family and that needed to be put to light. I was disowned the next day and I ran straight to Robert. He understood why I was so confused and lonely at the beginning. He helped me create a true home for myself."

"That explains quite a bit," Draco cut in, still frowning. "However, if your little mafia group is your sanctuary, isn't it a bit counter-productive to tell an Auror all about it? And if Wyclyve was the first person to love you, why are you trying to put him in Azkaban?" There were too many layers to this girl than he could understand.

"Simple," replied Avril. "For starters, I am not evil. I may do some underhand dealings and dabble in the dark arts while breaking a few muggle laws, but I certainly don't enjoy harming others. You should understand this. It is not a hard concept."

"I do."

She nodded. "And as for Robert, well, I'm not in love with him. We grew apart because of that. I care for him, certainly, but I don't love him that way. I did try dating him. It felt all wrong; like a game of role-play, really. He _wants_ me to fall in love with him — rather obsessed with the idea, really — which is why he tries to impress me by involving himself with dark artifacts and dark magic. I know it's hypocritical, but I don't want him involved with these things. _Yes_, he's part of a damn mafia but he works with gamboling, not dark magic. That's not the Robert Wyclyve I know. He doesn't know what he's doing. If I have to go through the ministry in order to stop him and if the only way I'll get him to listen is behind jail bars, then so be it and fuck secrecy."

Draco sighed and ran hand through his immaculate hair, an annoying habit he'd picked up from Harry somewhere between writing reports together and going out for drinks as friends. "Very well, bring me to find your hidden hideouts. Let's find this ex-boyfriend of yours."

* * *

><p>* The Chinese in the Address is Building No. 59.5 Tsun Yip Street, Kwun Tong, Flat 14A (obviously, the ½ in the building number signifies that it is a wizarding building).<p>

* Avril calls people "Pretty Boy", as a sneering comment. It is _not_ meant to be a compliment.

A/N: Sorry for all of the information in this chap, but I really had to use a chapter or two to develop the whole "action" part of the plot. I promise next chapter will be pure UST and/or Fluff. For those of you who don't like Avril (since she's an OC), please be aware that she DOES play a major role in the Wyclyve case, so she's not just a filler for me to spout information from. Now spam me with reviews about what you think will happen with the Wyclyve Case ~ I really need some feedback about that...

Part Two Posted in a few days! Or, if I get a LOT of reviews, I'll edit really fast and post it even earlier. *wink* (Seriously, tell me what you think about the Wyclyve Case, I'm worried about the reaction)


	6. July 6th Part Two

Disclaimer: OCs are mine, crazy ideas are mine, everything else isn't mine.

**Warning:** Same as last time. Major amount of OCs.

A/N: Do you realize that Chapter 3 (July3rd) Had 12 reviews while all the other chapters have 3 or 4 per chapter? Let's aim for 12 again, shall we?

Also, please remember all Chinese puns/text/etc will be explained at the end and marked with an asterisk (*)

* * *

><p><em><em>Chapter 5 — <em>__July 6th _(Part Two)__

"Merlin. What is with you people's outfits?"

"For the last time, we like to dress outrageously. They'll think you look incredibly hot in that, by the way."

Draco snorted in disbelief, glancing at the girl walking beside him. Avril was dressed as Phier once again, unnatural (or natural, one could argue, since it wasn't dyed) lime green hair and punk, lacy clothing. She was a great deal taller now, thanks to her lethal-looking stilettos. Draco wondered how anyone could stand those clothes.

Not that he was dressed any better, as a matter of fact. A ripped bottle green t-shirt with a v-neck and quite a few faded indistinguishable words stamped all over it in what Draco supposed was a "totally hip design" hung on his lithe body just half a size loose. He wore a bleach white vest with black thread and buttons, wrinkled as if he'd gotten into a tussle, draped on top. Black skinny jeans with chains hanging from the sides and a pair of white stylish oxfords finished the look. That was, of course, excluding the black punk-meets-motorcycle fingerless gloves he was forced into along with a black star earring (fake) and silver, emerald green hair streaks (he had stubbornly refused all other colors), and black eyeliner.

"This is it," Avril said, pulling him through a magical wall. "Most people would call this a disco, but my group owns this street and this club is a headquarters. There are a few people who don't follow Wyclyve's beck and call; we'll ask them what they know about his whereabouts."

"Phier!" A girl's voice called out, waving wildly before running up and continuing in Chinese, "Oh? Who's this?"

"My name is Dra—"

"He's Dragon," Avril cut Draco off, giving him a knowing look.

"Dragon?" The girl asked, twirling a short lock of her electric blue bob-cut around her finger. "Oh Phier, why do you always get the handsome ones?"

Avril raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you satisfied with your own boy toy?"

"Oh, he's definitely not as gorgeous as this one," The girl gushed. She stuck out a perfectly manicured hand and gave him a wicked grin. "Hi! I'm Hallah, by the way."

"Hello," replied Draco stiffly as he looked the girl over. She wore an outfit of a similar style to Avril's, only not quite as frilly and in an electric and navy blue.

"Ooo! He's a formal as well? You're such a lucky one, Phier," Hallah sighed, clasping her hands together.

"Hallah is a close friend of mine," Avril informed Draco, a knowing glint in her eye. "She knows all the gossip around here." The girl in question beamed. "Hallah, have you seen Robert recently?"

Hallah's face fell a little. "Still can't find him, I'm afraid. He did call me up a day or two ago to ask me if you were alright, since you refuse to answer his calls. He was really quite frantic, you know," she replied pointedly.

"He's been bothering me," Avril scowled. "I don't want to answer him if he's going to be a bother."

"Don't be so fussy, Phier," Hallah chastised.

"But Wy—" Avril gave Draco a glare, "Robert," Draco corrected, "is supposed to be back in Hong Kong, is he not? Why is it so hard to find him if you know him so well when he's in his own territory?"

"He doesn't live here anymore," Hallah replied, eyeing Draco curiously. "Don't you know? He's moved to England so he doesn't have to steal his dear Phier's customers."

"He shouldn't be doing this at all! He's left us all of these loose ends in the gamboling community!" Avril exclaimed.

"He's only off on business because he's trying to make himself better for you!" Hallah's tone leaked irritation, as if they had discussed this before.

"Well, it's not better!"

"Girls," Draco drawled. It was a wonder he could still do that while under a translation charm and not sound like blubbering idiot. "Could you please stop your bickering, and answer the question?"

"I already told you Robert left for England!"

Draco exchanged a look with Avril. The metamorphagus gave a tiny nod and turned back to Hallah. _Hallah doesn't know_. "Very well then. We must be on our way; there's so much I have to show Dragon."

"Robert's going to be jealous if he catches wind of this!" Hallah's giggly voice called after them.

"Gah. Now he'll bust my phone bill again," Avril complained, massaging her temples with her thumb and ring finger. "Why is it that he keeps calling me, but I can't reach him when _I_ call?"

"Why don't you ask him where he is? He ought to tell you, if he cares so much."

"He knows I've gone to the Ministry. He's obsessed, but he's not _stupid_."

"I'm not quite familiar with muggle technology," said Draco, "but is there a way we could send a tracking spell through a call?"

"We could try a muggle tracking program," Avril mused. "It could work, since he's been living like a pureblood for a few years. He might not have taken precautions against muggle methods; he's fallen out of practice."

"We'll try that then, the next time he calls you," Draco approved, and then frowned. "Why did you call me Dragon?"

"I suppose your translation charm isn't perfect, so you don't get it. The name I called you, 啊龍, sounds like a nickname, to people like Hallah. But it's really a pun for your name: Draco — Dragon, get it?"

"Ugh." Draco glared at his guide. "Did you really have to do that?"

"It was all I could come up with," Avril sniffed, nose in the air. "You should be grateful for me thinking on the fly like that."

"And why didn't you correct your friend, when she mistook me for your boyfriend?"

"It's an easy way to explain who you are. They'll kill you if you let on that you're an Auror. We're here."

Draco blinked, taking in his surroundings. It seemed as if they'd gone into a room in the VIP section of the club. Rounded silver sectionals lined two of the four black walls with neon flowery designs. There was a strange ethereal sheen to all of the lights, the decorations. _Magic_, he realized with a sharp intake of breath. _This is what she meant. They used magic to improve muggle lights in a club_.

"Phier! Who's that?" The inhabitants of the room waved the two over.

"_G-Man_? Haven't seen you lately," Avril laughed, clapping a brunet on the shoulder while flopping onto a sectional next to him. "Really, it's been _years_."

"Your boyfriends are really annoying, sweetheart," G-man gave Draco the eye from under a blond (dyed, obviously) fringe as he grabbed an unopened butterbeer from the low table in front of the sectional. "Oh, right, I suppose it would be ex-boyfriends, now, wouldn't it."

"Don't be so rude, G-man," the bloke sitting next to G-man grinned. "Can't you see you'll scare the new kid away?"

"Who are you, anyway?" A girl with pink-streaked hair asked, hopping down from her perch on top of the sectional.

"Dragon," Draco replied, extending a hand to the girl. "A...friend...of Phier's."

The girl smirked at Draco's pause. "A friend, I'm sure. You may call me Heart."

"I'm LaBa," the bloke next to G-man lifted a hand in greeting. He was really too cheery for a human being, in Draco's opinion. "So what're _you_ doing here?"

"Isn't it _ob_-vious?" G-man sneered. "Phier comes in with a new bloke, what do you expect?"

"Hey! I'm not —" Draco protested.

"A brave one too, I see. I wonder how long he'll last before you break him, Phier. You do like to make them run away."

"What's with you today?" Avril asked, an eyebrow rising delicately.

"He's been in a bad mood since the last time you saw him, Phier," Heart commented from her new perch next to Draco. "He's angry that you let Robert move away."

"I didn't have a say in the matter at the time." Avril's eyes narrowed. "You all know that."

"You could have called him back," G-man snapped. "He was our leader and yet he left everything for _your_ sake."

"How was I supposed to know he would leave because of our break-up?" Avril exclaimed. "I didn't even think he was serious about the relationship!"

"How the fuck did you miss the fact that he loved you? It was there in every look, every gift; everyone could see it." Heart and LaBa nodded in agreement, wincing slightly at the glare Avril gave them. "He thought you were mocking him when you told him it was only a game for you!"

"I only spoke what I thought was the truth!"

"Phier, you did tell him you couldn't love," Heart interjected in a soft voice. "He told us. He told us you said you've never loved ever since you moved into your flat. I don't know why it's relevant, but..."

Something in Draco's mind clicked. Avril had only moved because she was disowned and lost her family. The girl must have been scarred by the incident. Draco knew that if it had been him, he wouldn't ever give anyone a chance to worm their way into his heart after that. He had been through a rough childhood and adolescence, but he always had his mother and father, no matter how prideful and arrogant they were. Sometimes Draco wondered how Harry could have lived and lived and lived without familial love as a child.

"Robert's back in Hong Kong." Avril's voice cut through Draco's reverie.

"Yes, I know," G-man said, his voice dangerously soft. "He asked me if there was a way for me to get Vivian's Lake for him. Didn't even ask about the rest of us or even the business, that prick!"

"You've seen him?" Draco cut in, all business.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" G-man sneered. "'Fraid that you have competition? Don't worry, Phier never dates anyone twice."

"That's enough, G-man!" Avril yelled, shooting to her feet. "I can't help what's already happened! So cut the crap and tell me where the fuck Robert is!"

"Don't be rash," Draco breathed into Avril's ear as he dragged her back down to her seat. "It won't do if Wyclyve gets wind of unnecessary rumors about your actions."

Avril took a deep breath and nodded before turning back to G-man, who had a pleased look on his face. "Well? Are you going to tell me what you know about Robert? I can't stop him if I don't know where he is, can I?"

"I met him street racing three nights ago," G-man replied, leaning and draping an elbow casually on the back of his seat. "We were just clearing out from a race when Robert came at me from behind. I was surprised to see him, naturally. Asked the man what he was doing there. He told me he needed Vivian's Lake, and it was vital. Asked me if I could get it from you, since you refuse to talk to him. I told him I don't _do_ Dark Artifacts and I won't change that. He sighed like he knew that would be my answer, said exactly that, and then turned around and walked away. I asked him if he wanted to race, you know, a game between best mates, but he said 'No, this is too important. It's important for _us_.' and apparated out."

"Too important for you guys? What?" Draco cut in.

"He didn't say 'us'," G-man said, the ghost of a smirk curving his lips. "Oh no, he said '_us_'. And there's only one '_us_' Robert's interested in."

Draco glanced at Avril and back. G-man gave a minute nod, confirming Draco's suspicions. Wyclyve really was obsessed.

"Alright! That's enough serious talk! Let's give Dragon a tour!" Heart giggled excitedly, breaking the contemplative silence following G-man's words. She wrapped her arms around Draco's and pulled him out of the room, Avril and the two boys following behind.

Draco sighed and resigned himself to a long day.

xXxXxXx

Harry was pacing around the hotel room. He had assumed Draco would be back by now; it was nearly two-thirty in the morning! Surely Draco wasn't still pissed at him? Harry had a whole file of information about the cave on Lamma Island ready as a peace offering. Of course, there was also Draco's daily 'secret admire' gift, today's being a complete set of expensive and limited edition hair products that Draco _adored_, along with the usual rose. Harry had thought it was a bad idea at first to add to Draco's primping products (Merlin knew how vain Draco was about his appearance), but considering how much Draco loved his hair, and the fact that he felt kind of guilty for taking his frustration out on Draco that morning, he decided it was worth a little extra money and prepared himself for Draco to finish hogging the bathroom in the morning half an hour later than the usual time.

_Two thirty-six._ Where had Draco gone off to anyway? Shacklebolt would surly rip Harry a new one if their little fight got Draco hurt or killed. Damn it, where _was_ the git? Harry's pacing increased in speed along with his agitation. _Two thirty-seven_.

Harry glanced at the file on the table. The table that Draco had mostly taken over in order to spread out his new picture puzzle. Draco had stayed up every night, a small crease between his eyebrows, trying to piece together the clue. Harry gave a small smile at the memory. The picture had been a wizarding one, which was why the puzzle was so hard; the people in the picture would keep moving around, causing the picture on each individual piece to change every time the people in the picture walked around. You really had to hand it to Draco, though. He adamantly refused to be defeated by a mere piece of colored cardboard and now he was nearly done. Harry couldn't wait to see how much Draco would catch from the picture once he finished. Harry had chosen a photo from one of the Ministry Galas, where all the Aurors had grouped together for a department picture. Quiet amusingly, most of the Aurors had been thoroughly pissed by the time the picture was taken and most of their coworkers were either stumbling around the picture or doing crazy thing that people did when they were drunk. It was both his and Draco's favorite picture of the department.

Harry cast another tempus. _Two forty-two_.

_Click_.

"Harry? Whyr you still up?" Draco stumbled into the room, his voice slightly slurred.

"Where were you?" Harry demanded, worry turning into anger once he saw that Draco was unharmed, just merely tipsy. He did not care one bit that he sounded like a worried spouse.

"Wizard sh-street racing," Draco yawned, flopping backwards onto the bed.

"You went street racing?" Harry yelled. Draco was out having fun while Harry was working? He _was_ a lazy arse, if that was the case!

"Mmmhmm," Draco mumbled, snuggling into the blankets.

"Don't you sleep yet, you prat!"

"Hmm."

"Damn it, I can't talk to you like this." Pulling out his wand, Harry shot a sobriety spell straight at Draco's head.

"Yow! Potter! What the bloody hell was that for?" Draco yelped, clutching his skull. Sobriety spells were never pleasant. "Ungh. My head."

"Why the hell were you out _street racing_ while I was working?"

Draco gave him a cold glare. "I was out interrogating Wyclyve's friends, you imbecile."

"And that requires drinking and street racing?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, it does," Draco sneered. "Considering I had to work undercover so they wouldn't _know_ I was interrogating them. Don't think it was easy downing twelve butterbeers and half a bottle of firewhiskey while trying not to let anything slip."

"Oh." Well, that made sense. Anger fell away as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm sorry about this morning."

"Don't worry about it. We've done worse before," Draco waved it off, reaching a hand up to his ear. "Damn, this earring hurts. I don't even know _how_ women do it."

It was then Harry's mind finally registered Draco's appearance. "What are you _wearing_?"

Draco winced. "Don't tease me. Phier forced me to wear this."

"Tease...you...?" Harry stuttered stupidly, still ogling Draco. "Merlin, you look hot."

"Ugh. Not you too." Draco whined, getting up from the bed to take a shower, still clutching his head. "Ooo! Madame Gisele's Straightening Shampoo Potion! I love you, mystery gifter person!" Draco squealed — yes, squealed — from the bathroom. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course hair products would make Draco show his sweet side.

* * *

><p>*Draco's name, 啊龍 is pronounced "Ah l-O-ng". The second character literally means "Dragon"<br>*Heart's name is really "啊心", in which the second word literally means "Heart", it is pronounced "Ah Sum"  
>*LaBa's name is really "喇叭", which literally means "Trumpet" or "Speaker" (as in music speakers) It is pronounced, "Laa Baa".<p>

A/N: Please, Please, Please **Review** and tell me **what you think of the Wyclyve Case** so far. Just a "The case is good/bad" or "I'm confused about this part of the case..." will do. I'm really worried about the reaction, please let me know if I'm writing the action part well.

(If you don't tell me what you think of the Case, I'll deprive you of Fluff! [Kidding, of course...or am I?])


	7. July 7th Part One

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry and Draco, I would be the happiest female on the planet. Unfortunately, 'tis only a fantasy... *sighs*

****Note:** Vivian's Lake (aka Mirror) only kills those the victim _loves_ and _come to love_ (in the future). It does not kill the victim itself! This would mean that if it was used on someone like Voldemort, nothing would happen because he doesn't love anyone. Just to clear things up, since I have gotten PM's and reviews where people say "Wyclyve's obviously using it to get rid of someone." The mirror does not "get rid of" the victim. Just the people the victim loves, alright?

**Read the Pensieve memories too! (Even the repeated stuff) There are more clues!**

Chinese puns/sayings/names will be that have not been explained before will be explained/translated where the asterisks (*) are at the bottom.

A/N: I would like to give a shoutout my _lovely_ reviewers; I woke up one morning, thinking "Eh, I'll write tomorrow", but then I checked my emails and found I had 6 reviews. I got up right away and started typing. Moral of the story: keep up the reviews and here's your chapter!

**This date is once again split into two parts**. I think I'm just going to keep splitting dates into however many parts I need from now on. Just read the dates and be aware.

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><p><em>Chapter 6 — July 7<em>_th (Part One)_

"You went back to Lamma Island?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised as he flipped through Harry's findings. The two of them were spending the morning reviewing each other's notes, catching up on whatever they had missed during their separation the day before, "And you questioned a seer?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I came across her as a complete accident. She thought I was there to arrest her."

"Arrest her?"

"She was from the Half-Blood society," was all the reply needed.

"So this G-man is the only one who met with Wyclyve ever since his return to Hong Kong?" asked Harry after a few silent moments of flipping through notes.

"Out of the ones I talked to, I would assume so. I'd like to think G-man and Wyclyve were best mates, considering how worked up G-man got," Draco replied, taking a sip from his mug of tea. The mug was the gift from two days ago. Harry had passed a shop filled with little trinkets during their search, and a set of lovebirds' mugs had caught his eye. Each set were customizable with a spell. Harry had designed them to be emerald green — a decidedly mutual color, since it was a Slytherin color for Draco and the color of his mother's eyes for Harry — with a golden key on Draco's and a heart-shaped lock on Harry's. The date, July 5th, was written in elegant script across the handles in the same shade as the lock and key. Also in the fancy script, the words '_Here I give you the key to my heart...Would you be willing to give me yours?_' flowed all the way around Draco's mug, one line just under the rim, the other just above the base. It made Harry's heart beat just a little faster to see Draco clutching the mug tightly in-between those aristocratic hands of his; he had been worried that the blond would think his gift as ridiculously sappy.

"Do you remember his exact words? You didn't specify in your report; we might be able to catch a clue from it."

"It would be impossible to write it word for word," Draco groaned; he took an abnormally huge gulp of tea with his eyes squeezed shut. "Why don't I just give you a pensieve memory?"

"Let's trade memories, then? Maybe you'll catch something I missed and vice versa." Harry asked, pulling out his wand and summoned both his and Draco's pensieves from the closet.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and pulled a long, silvery strand from his temple. "Very well."

Harry nodded and placed his own memory into Draco's bowl.

"Ready?" He asked. Draco nodded and they both dived.

xXxXxXx

"Phier! Who's that?" Harry watched as a group of boldly-dressed young adults waved Phier and Draco over. He took a spot at a metal chair opposite to the occupied sectional; the room was small and he could see everything more clearly from this spot.

"G-Man? Haven't seen you lately," Phier laughed, clapping one of the blokes on the shoulder while flopping onto a sectional next to him. "Really, it's been years."

"Your boyfriends are really annoying, sweetheart," G-man gave Draco the eye from under his fringe and grabbed an unopened butterbeer from the low table in front of the sectional. "Oh, right, I suppose it would be ex-boyfriends, now, wouldn't it."

"Don't be so rude, G-man," the bloke who sported a buzz cut, the one sitting on the other side of G-man grinned, "Can't you see you'll scare the new kid away?"

"Who are you, anyway?" A girl with wavy pink-streaked hair asked, hopping down from her perch on the back of the silver sectional.

"Dragon," Draco replied, extending a hand to the girl. "A...friend...of Phier's."

The girl smirked at Draco's pause. "A friend, I'm sure. You may call me Heart."

"I'm LaBa," the bloke next to G-man lifted a hand in greeting. "So what're you doing here?"

"Isn't it ob-vious?" G-man sneered. "Phier comes in with a new bloke, what do you expect?"

Harry's eyes widened in shock. Draco hadn't mentioned that he had to play the part of Phier's boyfriend while he was undercover. Draco may be good at hiding emotion, but Harry had learned to read the blond's eyes for his true feelings. Never mind that Draco wasn't straight; the fact that there wasn't anything there — not annoyance, not confusion, not even acknowledgement — caused Harry's heart to clench slightly. The nudging instinct inside him that told him something wasn't right with Phier intensified.

'Pay attention! You're the one who needs to see this.' Harry berated himself and turned back to the strangely dressed group.

"He's been in a bad mood since the last time you saw him, Phier," Heart commented from her spot next to Draco. "He's angry that you let Robert move away."

"I didn't have a say in the matter at the time." Phier's eyes narrowed. "You all know that."

"You could have called him back," G-man snapped. "He was our leader and yet he left everything for your sake."

"How was I supposed to know he would leave because of our break-up?" Phier exclaimed. "I didn't even think he was serious about the relationship!"

"How the fuck did you miss the fact that he loved you? It was there in every look, every gift; everyone could see it." Heart and LaBa nodded in agreement, wincing slightly at the glare Avril gave them. "He thought you were mocking him when you told him it was only a game for you!"

"I only spoke what I thought was the truth!"

"Phier, you did tell him you couldn't love," Heart interjected in a soft voice. "He told us. He told us you said you've never loved ever since you moved into your flat. I don't know why it's relevant, but..."

Harry frowned slightly. Why did Phier's flat affect how she could love? Was there a curse on her home?

"Robert's back in Hong Kong."

"Yes, I know," G-man replied, his voice dangerously soft. "He asked me if there was a way for me to get Vivian's Lake for him. Didn't even ask about the rest of us or even the business, that prick!"

"You've seen him?" Draco cut in, all business.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" G-man sneered. "'Fraid that you have competition? Don't worry, Phier never dates anyone twice."

"That's enough, G-man!" Phier yelled, shooting to her feet. "I can't help what's already happened! So cut the crap and tell me where the fuck Robert is!"

Draco dragged Phier back down and whispered something in her ear. The girl took a deep breath and nodded before turning back to G-man, who had a smug look on his face. "Well? Are you going to tell me what you know about Robert? I can't stop him if I don't know where he is, can I?"

"I met him street racing three nights ago," G-man replied, leaning and draping an elbow casually on the back of his seat. "We were just clearing out from a race when Robert came at me from behind. I was surprised to see him, naturally. Asked the man what he was doing there. He told me he needed Vivian's Lake, and it was vital. Asked me if I could get it from you, since you refuse to talk to him. I told him I don't do Dark Artifacts and I won't change that. He sighed like he knew that would be my answer, said exactly that, and then turned around and walked away. I asked him if he wanted to race, you know, a game between best mates, but he said 'No, this is too important. It's important for _us_.' and apparated out."

"Too important for you guys? What?" Draco cut in.

"He didn't say 'us'," G-man said, the ghost of a smirk curving his lips. "Oh no, he said '_us'_. And there's only one 'us' Robert's interested in."

Draco glanced at Phier and back. G-man gave a minute nod. Harry made a mental note to ask Draco about it when the memory finished.

xXx **Meanwhile** xXx

Harry walked down one of the few muggle roads on Lamma Island, peering at the hidden magical buildings — which muggles saw trees on the side of a mountain — and inside muggle shops. Draco began to wonder what the point of all this was when he realized Harry had stopped.

The brunet stood in the doorway of a muggle shop, where an old Chinese woman sat behind racks of jewelry, pots, and other muggle trinkets. At once, Draco realized what had caught Harry's attention. The elderly woman had a set of tarot cards spread out in front of her in the Twisting Path spread, making predictions and statements as she flipped over cards. The young man sitting on the other side of the table was mesmerized, listening intently and believing every word. The male was no older than twenty at the most, dressed in a muggle business suit and carrying a briefcase, hope written all over his face, although it wasn't quite the same the hopeful expression most of those new to the workforce wore.

"Well, what does it say?" The man asked eagerly.

"The card at the lower left, represents the first decision along your path. You have drawn the Queen of Swords: The essence of air behaving as water, such as a refreshing mist: You are a person gifted with both keen logic and natural intuition, giving them uncanny powers of perception and insight. One who easily sees past deception and confusion to the heart of a matter, and understands both sides of any argument. The embodiment of calm, forthrightness, and wit, in the face of even the most trying circumstances."

The man smiled. "Please continue." Harry walked into the store, pretending to look at trinkets. The old woman gave him an acknowledging nod before turning back to her customer.

"The card to the far left represents the first false path that may lead you astray. You drew the Eight of Coins (Prudence). You are dedicating yourself fully to a task. Learning a new craft or skill. Applying painstaking attention to detail. Industriousness and the efficient completion of tasks. Sticking with a project long enough to see it through."

The young man's eyes grew wider. Harry quirked an eyebrow and picked up some other random object to 'look at'.

"This card in the middle represents the second decision along your path. You have here the Wheel of Fortune: The path of destiny. Karma on a grand scale. An unexpected turn of good fortune. A link in the chain of events. Success, luck, and happiness."

He was nodding now, rapidly and excitedly, "Go on! What's next?"

"The card at the lower right represents the second false path that may lead you astray. This is the Eight of Wands (Swiftness). A sudden release of raw power, cutting through confusion and indecision, and setting things in motion. Rapid progress towards a desired goal, brought about by immediate and decisive action. Boldness and daring in love, business, travel, or spiritual growth."

"A false path?" The man murmured.

The elderly woman nodded, her mouth pulled into a thin line of worry. "The last card is the outcome card; the card at the top represents one possible mask of your true destination." She held up the card so the man could see it more clearly. "Ten of Cups (Satiety), when reversed represents Dissipation, debauchery, and stagnation. Taking one's good fortune for granted. Problems in domestic and social matters. A false love or infatuation, leading to a lack of fulfillment."

When the prediction was over, the young man looked up from the cards and whispered, "How do you know?"

The fossil — as Draco was now mentally calling her — gave a weak smile and replied, "The inner eye knows all."

The man sighed and handed a pouch of coins to the woman. From the way the coins clinked, it didn't seem as if it was the right material to be muggle money. _Interesting._

"Thank you, Beattie," The man called out as he walked out the door, eyeing Harry nervously, "Wish me luck!"

The old woman gave him a smile, then closed the door gently, putting up a 'closed' sign and locking the door. Harry slipped his wand into his hand; there was something unnerving about how slowly Beattie was closing the door. Suddenly, she whipped around, swifter than anyone her age ought to be (her wrinkles could rival Dumbledore's) and pointed a wand straight at Harry. "_Expelliarmus!_ Why are you here?" she demanded, and in English, no less.

"I just wanted to ask some questions," Harry replied, holding his hands up by his head in a surrender pose. "I won't harm you."

"The Ministry sent you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm an Auror —"

"I know who you are," Beattie cut him off. "Harry Potter," she spat. "Have you've come to arrest me?"

"Have you broken the law?" Harry asked, frowning in confusion.

"You don't know?" she asked incredulously. Her wand dropped an inch.

"I'm not here for you, if that's what you're asking," said Harry.

Beattie dropped her defensive stance and picked up Harry's wand but kept her wand trained on the Brit. _Smart woman_, Draco thought. "Then what are you here for?" she asked.

"I came from England to investigate a case concerning Robert Wyclyve. He's been bringing dark artifacts back to England to sell," Harry answered promptly. "I would appreciate it if you'd tell me if you had any information on him."

Beattie glanced out of the glass door, eyeing the street before dropping her wand and leading Harry to the back of the store, pulling a curtain aside to reveal a small room with two squishy chairs and a table. Shelves lined the walls with teacups, crystal balls, and other divination props. She slid Harry's wand into her pocket before motioning for him to take a chair.

"I won't rat out my own kind," Beattie said, once they were both seated.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"You're from the Ministry," Beattie spat the last word as if it was a curse. "You're helping _them_. Not us."

"And 'them' and 'us' are...?" Harry prompted, leaning forward in his chair.

"_They_ are the Purebloods. _We_ are the Half-Bloods."

"I thought blood status wasn't such a big deal here as it was back in England," said Harry.

Beattie waved her hand in front of her face as if backhanding someone. "Oh, of course, _you_ defeated that fool _Voldemort_, did you? Saved the muggle-borns and half-bloods, did you? You think that will help you here? We won't care about that. You work for the Ministry. You work for those _idiots_ that try to control us and our minds. You are the _enemy_."

"I'm..." Harry fumbled for the right words; he didn't want to offend this woman, especially when he was wandless. "not quite sure what you mean. People from you country live differently, I assume?"

The seer watched Harry closely; she must have decided Harry was truly clueless, because she gave him an amused nod. "Your mind really that innocent," at Potter's perplexed look, she clarified. "I am a legilimens. I know you do not see what our society is like. Young people these days, I tell you, so unobservant. Always too self-absorbed," she ranted, waving her hands the way all old people do.

"Will you explain to me, then, since I don't understand?"

"Oh very well," Beattie said, leaning forward in her chair, looking every bit the grandma with a story. "It began didn't begin that long ago, I would say. To me, if feels like it was just yesterday that it happened. But oh, it was a very many decades ago. I'm not quite sure how many, mind you. But we were only separated into two types of people, then. The Magic and the Muggle. Those Ministry fools that call themselves 'old and wise', insisted we keep away from non-magic people. There were many purebloods, then, and there still are. The purebloods thought it was all good and well. They didn't want their traditions to be changed for lesser people and it was too dangerous to interact with Muggles, especially since they industrialized so quickly. Deprived the land of magic, they did, taking over nearly all the land, above and under ground.

"The muggle-borns, few as they were, couldn't live in pure-blood society; not if they wanted to keep both parents, that is. They embraced their magic, but they couldn't feel the same about Muggles as any other witch or wizard. So they did what they could; they asked the half-bloods to help. The half-bloods were kinder, if I do say myself. We went to the Ministry with a proposal and were rejected on sight. This angered many, as you can imagine. Even a few purebloods — the younger ones, as they were more open minded — turned sides and helped us. We tried again with the Ministry, with papers, with riots, with everything we had. They still rejected us; we were so outnumbered, we couldn't even start a war like you English did. So what did we do? We discarded all but the basic laws and built our own society. The Half-blood society. We combine Muggle and Magic methods of living and now we can also use Muggle land, land which once belonged to us. I would say those poor dim-witted leaders of the Purebloods would very much like to wipe us out. We do cause them a bit of trouble, you see, since we live by _our_ laws and not theirs."

"And since I work for the Ministry," said Harry, "you think I want to destroy muggle-borns and half-bloods?" He looked utterly astonished how anyone could think that way of him. _It's a rather cute expression_, Draco thought, before he realized what exactly it was he was thinking. _No, not cute. I am _not _thinking of Potter as _cute_,_ Draco berated himself.

"I had every right to assume so," Beattie pointed out.

"And you won't help me with finding Wyclyve?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"I will tell you what I can," Beattie relented. "I will not betray my own kind."

Harry made a motion of agreement before started his questions. "Wyclyve has come to Hong Kong about a week ago. Did you know this?"

"Yes."

"How did you know?"

"I've met with him."

"How many times?"

"Just once. He was after my Divination services."

"What did he ask you to predict?"

"I cannot tell you that."

"Do you know where Wyclyve is staying?"

"I do not know. Ask those crazy friends of his. He used to always have one of them hanging around."

"Where do his friends live? What are their names?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Do you know what Wyclyve wants, coming here to Hong Kong?"

"Why, His girlfriend, of course," Beattie answered, surprise flashing across her wrinkled face. "Didn't you know?"

Draco could see Harry's confusion. He hadn't had any information about Avril then.

"No, I don't know. Can you elaborate?"

"That little green haired girl. My, was there ever love like Robert's for her. They were always together, though they broke up a few years ago. Robert left then, but he's back for her. I know it."

One could practically see the wheels turning in Harry's head. "Where is she now?"

"Don't you know I can't tell you locations by now?"

"I'm sorry," apologized Harry, "I had to try, anyway, didn't I?"

"I suppose. Will that be all?"

"For now, yes," Harry said. He stood up from his chair. "If I have more questions, I'll come back."

xXxXxXx

The memories ended and the two Auror partners were expelled from the pensieves. Draco spoke first, "Well? Did you catch anything from that?"

Harry frowned. "What do you suppose he meant by 'No, this is too important. It's important for us?'"

"Obviously Wyclyve's doing whatever he's doing as part of his obsession with Avril," Draco drawled.

"Avril?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised and an "_Oh_?" look on his face.

Draco, looking away, replied much too casually, "Just a slip of the tongue."

"Draco," Harry said the words slowly with practiced dangerous undertones that he used when interrogating prisoners, "Why did you call her Avril?"

Turning his head back towards Harry in order to execute a perfect annoyed look, Draco snapped, "I didn't mean to call her that."

"Draco, if it has to do with the case, then you have to tell me. We're partners, after all," Harry reminded him.

Draco pursed his lips, a crease between his eyes. He eventually leaned back in his chair and sighed, and Harry knew that telling Harry that whatever the other man had been evaluating in his mind was in his favor. "Yes, I suppose it's worth getting my balls hexed off to tell you," he said sarcastically.

Harry raised his eyebrows and gave a small laugh. He did love Draco's witty comments. "She threatened you?"

Draco shrugged. "She keeps her real name secret. I wouldn't want to keep the name _my_ parents gave me if they treated me like that."

"I'd reckon, yeah."

"So that seer confirmed that Wyclyve is after Avril then," Draco thought out loud, before grinning and flopping back into the chair. "Well we're back up to schedule, aren't we? We deserve a day off."

Harry shook his head exasperatedly, although he smiled, nevertheless. "Lunch?"

"Yes!" Draco gave a wide grin and ran off to fix his hair before they went out.

* * *

><p>AN: First, there really is a woman who does tarot readings in a muggle shop of Lamma Island. I've actually been in that shop. Second, the tarot card reading for 'the man' in this is fairly accurate. I looked it up in several books/websites and these are the real meanings of the cards. This spread is called the Twisting Path spread and is done with a Golden Tarot. I'll post pictures of the spread/cards on my LJ once the story is done. I will also post pictures that I took of Hong Kong and the things Harry/Draco visit on my LJ once the story is completed and posted. Now, I know this chapter isn't the most fluffy/UST-filled chapter ever, but I promised _some_, and it's all in part two. I've been busy, so Part Two will be a little late, I'm sorry.

**So, did you guys catch any **_**clues**_**? Make any new theories? Leave me a review and ****tell me****!**


	8. July 7th Part Two

Disclaimer: OC's are mine, Harry Potter is not.

A/N: This chapter is Part Two. It is pure H/D love

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><p><em>Chapter 7 — July 7th (Part Two)<em>

"Wrong way, Potter," Draco called out, laughing as he strolled down the hallway of lifts.

"The lobby's over there," Harry said, brows furrowed together and pointing somewhere behind them as he followed.

"But we're not going to the lobby, are we?" Draco asked, grinning widely. It was the grin that screamed 'I'm plotting something evil! Beware!' and had Harry on edge.

Stepping inside the lift at the very end, the one that led from G to LG5, according to the plaque above the doors, Draco's grin only got wider. He pushed the little round LG2 button, practically dancing up and down, when he started _humming_. It was cute to see Draco so excited, Harry mused. Still, the grin was quite unnerving.

The doors of the lift slid open with a _ping!_ Draco sauntered out and away, still humming without a care in the world. Harry, however, barely made it out of the lift before he froze in place. "Draco...what is this?"

Lined up against each wall and in-between, were rows and rows of shiny, expensive muggle cars.

"We're driving," Draco said cheerfully, twirling his car keys around a finger.

Harry rushed after him. "But Draco, you...don't drive."

"Yes, I do," Draco insisted, stopping next to a silver SLK with the top down. "I've been behind the wheel a few times before."

Harry cringed at the thought of the times he had seen Draco 'behind the wheel'. Draco _always_ drove like a madman. "Where did you get a car anyway?"

"Heart's boyfriend," Draco replied, making the car locks click open as he pressed a button on his mini-remote. "He said he'd lend me this one after he saw my driving. It's a new model."

"When did he see your driving?" Harry asked

"Last night," said Draco casually, waving it off.

"You drove home _drunk_?" He leaned forward onto the car door, a silent refusal to get in when the blond motioned for him to.

"I was fine," Draco boasted. "Besides, I won against everyone I raced even after I was drinking."

"How...oh, nevermind," Harry said as he realized that Draco had gone street racing, where speed limits and traffic rules were typically broken. That thought brought up new worries. "You're not going to drive like that _now_, are you?"

"Potter," Draco stretched out the word, a dark, icy expression taking over his pointy but defined features. "I am perfectly capable of driving you and me safely to lunch." When Harry continued to look at him with disbelief, he leaned across the passenger seat and twisted a finger into Harry's tie, using it to yank their faces close together. "Don't you trust me?"

Harry was staring straight into Draco's eyes. They were an abnormal colour of dark golden-grey in the dim yellow-orange lighting of the parking lot. Golden eyelashes framed those breathtaking eyes, fanning out in a contrast to his pale skin, which now had an orange flush in the strange lighting. Draco's lips were parted, ruby red and wet from when he spoke. Harry licked his lips.

"Harry?" Draco's voice threw Harry out of his trance and he jerked backwards.

"Uh...yeah. Of course I trust you. Why wouldn't I trust you? I mean, we're partners. Partners, yeah. Work partners," Harry babbled, feeling the flush rising through his neck and cheek. Draco arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think I'll get in now."

"Okay," Draco replied, giving him an odd look before turning away to start the car. Harry plopped down into the passenger seat and refused to look at Draco, embarrassed. Gods, what would Draco say if he knew how Harry felt about him? It would ruin everything.

"You might want to put that seatbelt on," Draco drawled, forgetting — or ignoring, Harry wasn't sure which — the awkward moment just a few minutes ago.

"Huh?" Harry asked, lifting his head to look at Draco. Unfortunately, Draco's attention was already on something else.

Before Harry could so much as register what was going on, Draco put the car in reverse, swerved out of the parking space, changed gear, and shot straight ahead, narrowly missing a cement column in the process.

"Malfoy, maybe you should slow down a little," Harry commented in a strangled voice as he struggled to yank down the seatbelt.

"Potter, are you doubting my driving skills?" Draco drawled, turning his head completely around to look at Harry.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Harry yelled, finally winning the struggle against the seatbelt and was blindly stabbing it at the slot. Draco turned back around just in time to swerve around a corner.

The blonde laughed, a happy smile adorning his face. "Don't worry, this car is magically enhanced."

"You _magically enhanced _it?" Harry yelped, thinking back to the 'magically enhanced' Ford Angela he and Ron drove to Hogwarts. Or more specifically, thinking back to the 'magically enhanced' Ford Angela he and Ron had _crashed_ at Hogwarts.

"Not me. Heart's boyfriend did. It's his job," Draco grinned.

"Magically enhanced cars are not safe!"

"The ones he makes are. This one has, extension charm in the trunk, a shield charm against physical objects, a variant of _Salvio Hexia _to protect it from exploding if it got hit by a hex, disillusionment, muggle-repelling, and silencing charms that can be turned on and off, and a strong anti-dent charm woven together with a cushioning charm. So even if we crashed, the car would simply bounce away unscathed," Draco replied proudly. "You can't even scratch this car."

"Yeah but those charms wear out after long term use!" Harry argued, still thinking about that poor Ford Angela while hanging onto his seat for dear life.

"Not these ones," Draco commented while making yet _another_ dangerous swerve to change to a side street with less traffic. "He's made them permanent. The ones on his cars from ten years back are still working perfectly and they drive like this every day."

"Draco, _please_, slow down," Harry begged, trying to keep his stomach from jumping up into his throat. His fingers were starting to hurt from gripping the chair so hard.

"Oh all right, be a buzzkill," Draco scowled, but he finally took mercy on the gas pedal. "But only because we're there."

He pulled into the car park at Pacific Place at a much more reasonable speed, parking with a skill Harry didn't realize Draco had.

"We still have to walk a bit. It's just above and out the mall," said Draco. He waited for Harry to stagger out before he pushed his mini-remote for the automatic top to go up and put up the muggle-repelling charms.

"Where are we going?"

"Domani. It's a muggle restaurant for the best Italian dining and wine," Draco replied. Harry chuckled. Draco _would_ know all the high-class places to eat, even muggle ones in a country he never visited before.

"I'm not sure if I can manage to eat after that driving," Harry teased.

Draco sniffed and snuck his nose in the air. "A Gryffindor like you just _wouldn't_ understand an art like speeding."

"I'm pretty sure as an Auror, you shouldn't be driving at illegal speeds, Draco," Harry mock-scolded.

Draco smirked and slung a — friendly, Harry reminded himself —arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close so he could speak in his ear, "And why would I care?"

Harry blushed when he felt Draco's warm breath tickle his ear, but laughed anyway. "You wouldn't."

"Exactly. Lunch for two, please?" He turned to the Chinese lady welcoming them.

She smiled and grabbed two menus from behind her before leading them up a few steps to their left, "Will this table be alright?"

"It's perfect," Draco purred, finally dropping his arm from Harry's shoulders. Harry didn't know whether to miss its presence or be relieved as his flushed cheeks could no longer be blamed on the heat of the outdoors.

"Very well, your waiter will be with you shortly," she replied, giggling at the two of them before prancing away.

"It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" Draco asked dreamily.

"Yes..." Harry replied, gazing around. And it was beautiful. Creamy white columns led up to a swirling ceiling of the same colour, with cleverly-hidden golden spotlights all around the building, including the walls, the bar, and the ceiling. Thin, Chocolate-coloured translucent curtains hung around the rounded front and the drinks area while a wall of glass decorated the restaurant section. The view was magnificent, with gardens, outdoor seating areas, and of course, blue, mirror-like skyscrapers and a blue sky with quick-moving clouds gliding across it.

Harry glanced at Draco, who was gazing out the window with a small smile curving his lips and sunlight playing across his creamy skin and silken hair. A few buttons of his shirt was unbuttoned and it ruffled slightly in the breeze of the air conditioning. Harry found himself following the faint trail of pale blond chest hair and wishing the shirt into nonexistence. Merlin, the blond was gorgeous. Harry grabbed his water and gulped it down, as his mouth had just suddenly gone dry.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, causing Harry to choke on his water.

_Shit. Did he notice I was checking him out?_

"Harry? You okay?" Draco asked; he leaned close and ran a soothing hand on Harry's back, which did not help calm him down at _all_.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Harry choked out once he stopped coughing.

Draco arched and eyebrow and gave him a disbelieving look, but turned away to the waiter walking up to them and started rattling off orders while Harry tried to will his blood away from his cheeks and groin.

"Do you have any ideas what you want to do the rest of the day off?" Draco asked once he was finished.

"We could walk around muggle areas," Harry suggested. "After all, we might run into some of those hidden half-blood buildings."

"Walk, not drive?" Draco teased.

"No," Harry responded firmly. "Most muggles walk everywhere anyway. We'll just come back for the car after dinner."

"Alright," Draco relented. He laughed and held up his hands in defeat.

Lunch came and went by quickly after that.. In Harry's opinion, each plate of food was so beautifully decorated it deserved to be in an art gallery, not eaten, despite how sinfully good it tasted and he said so as they walked back the way they came. Draco snickered at that. "An art gallery? Really, Potter, one would think you've never seen decent food before, even if it _is_ cooked by muggles."

"That was not merely decent. It was a bloody work of art! I didn't want to destroy it, but alas, my stomach overpowered me," Harry replied dramatically.

"Sure," Draco drawled. "Shall we walk around then, since you refuse to let me drive?" he asked, looking hopeful that Harry would change his mind.

"We should _definitely_ walk." He grinned widely.

"Prat." Draco smiled as he said it. It was the rare smile that Harry loved; it made all their insults and arguments a mere game played out of habit, unlike the evil twist of the lips the blond wore back in his Slytherin days. This was the smile of their friendship.

"Is there something on my face?" Draco asked feeling his jaw for a stray piece of food or other disasters while eyeing Harry.

"No, why?"

"You were staring at my jaw with a creepy grin on your face," Draco replied, amused.

Harry looked away. "I did not have a creepy grin on your face."

"You mean your face is _like_ that?" Harry cuffed him upside the head. "Ow! I was joking! We all know your good looks are second only to my own," Draco leered, rubbing his bruised skull.

"Hush, you." Harry ducked his head and hid his face with his fringe.

xXxXxXx

Draco loved going on international Auror missions. What was better than vacationing during work and given an excuse for it? Not to mention having all expenses covered by the ministry as well. The company wasn't bad at all either, considering he and Harry were around each other more than any other person. They shared an office, hung out at the same places, hell, they spent more time at each other's flats than they did at their own (granted, most of it was discussing cases after work, but still.) He and Harry had been sent to so many places before; it was only fair the best Auror team was the one sent to work with International Affairs.

"Let's go to Causeway Bay."

"Hmm?" Draco hummed in question, pulled out of his musings.

"I want to go to Causeway Bay," Harry repeated. "Come on. The MTR stations just ahead."

"Sure." It wasn't like he had any better ideas.

They bought their tickets from a metal box with little dots all over it — whatever it was muggles called it — and slipped into the MTR. It was rather empty at this time of the day, after lunch break but not tea break yet for those working, which were really most of the people who rode the MTR anyway.

"What made you want to go to Causeway Bay anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "There's more places to walk around in, I heard. There's this arcade I want to go to."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He'd have to ask for list of places to visit from Avril. Wouldn't do for Potter to know the city when he didn't. "You heard?"

"Er…yeah," Harry said, looking away from Draco and frowning as he moved over for a young man in a business suit with a saxophone case and a bright red backpack to get in. The man was shifting around strangely, eyeing Harry and Draco as if he was wary of the two Brits towering over him.

Draco ignored him. "Who did you hear it from?"

"Just some salesgirl," Harry replied, still refusing to meet Draco's eyes.

"What's her name?" Draco asked, leaning closer, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"W-what?" stuttered Harry. He tried to lean away but the man with the saxophone case was blocking him. "Ting Ting, I t-think. Why?"

"Was she pretty?" Draco breathed into Harry's ear.

Harry turned and glared at Draco. "Don't _do_ that. You know I don't like girls."

"Really?" Draco asked, all innocent. Harry rolled his eyes at him.

The train doors opened then and Harry accidentally stumbled into the man with the saxophone case as he walked out. "Oops. Sorry."

The man stared at Harry for a second before turning and bolting down the tunnel like someone was after him.

"Huh. Wonder what's with that guy," Draco commented as they strolled down the tunnel and left the gates.

"Don't know," Harry replied. "He looks familiar, though. This way."

The two partners took the exit behind Sogo and crossed though a passageway that led to Hong Kong's World Trade Centre (the muggle one). Harry dragged Draco into a lift and pushed the giant rectangle labelled "6" and grinned like a muggleborn child going to Diagon Alley for the first time.

The doors slid open to an arcade, filled with crane machines and video games. "Why are we here, Potter?" Draco drawled. "Everyone here is half our age."

Harry shushed him, pulling him around a corner to giant booths with Japanese girls and blokes across them. "Let's take sticker pictures!

"No!" Draco cried out in disbelief. Harry laughed at the horror Draco knew was etched into him face. "That's such a…_girly_…thing!"

"No, it's not," Harry whined, ducking behind the curtains of a booth in the back. "Here, in the back. No one will see you."

It took a bit more whining and begging before Draco finally relented, and that was only because a group of girls were walking by and he didn't want to be seen. Potter, of course, picked all sort of frilly backgrounds with _hearts_ and other strange decorations that freaked Draco out a bit. Nevertheless, it really was quite amusing to make silly poses and maybe that was why when Harry gave him a bone-crushing hug for one, Draco hugged him back in the three seconds they had before the camera snapped a shot. Decorating the pictures was a hilarious process as well. They experimented with the different add-ons and wrote their own bubbly captions. Draco even kept his half of the pictures.

xXxXxXx

After a bit more wandering, they decided on dinner, which went by quickly as well. They ended up going to a sushi place across the street and sat there talking for so long it was starting to get dark. Draco had ordered round after round of beer (he was not-so-secretly very fond of the muggle drink) in his high from the successful day and Harry was starting to feel a little worried, considering he was a bit tipsy himself.

"Draco, I don't care how happy you are. You really shouldn't drink any more." He signalled for the bill. The waitress came rushing over and Harry handed a wad of cash for her. "Keep the change." She nodded rapidly and hurried away while glancing at Draco with a worried look in her eye.

"No – _hic!_ – I'm – _hic!_ – fine! Another one!" Draco laughed to the ceiling.

"_No_. We're going back to the hotel." He looped an arm around Draco's waist and _hauled_ until he stumbled out onto the street. "You can drink when we get back."

"Nonononono," Draco giggled — yes, giggled — shaking his head so hard his blond locks smacked Harry in the face. "You. Me. Beer – _hic!_ – now!"

"_Dray_-co," Harry pleaded. God the man was heavy. "_Move_."

Draco stumbled a few steps ahead, nearly walking straight into the road while chanting "moremoremore".

Harry groaned, snagging Draco's hand and pulling him back.

"Look Harry, it's raining!" Draco laughed, head thrown back and bared to the sky. "Lemme cast an impermeable char—"

"No!" Harry yelled, ignoring the sudden downpour in favour of snagging Draco's arm away from his pocket and consequently, his wand. "I'll buy us an umbrella. Don't move."

He rushed over to the nearest 7-11 and bought a muggle umbrella, hurrying back to Draco, who was already drenched from head to toe and was looking horribly depressed about it although he didn't move from the spot. Damn the weather on the island. It really fulfilled the 'when it rains, it _pours_' saying.

"Draco, you're going to catch a cold," Harry said worriedly; he pulled Draco close so the umbrella would cover them both.

"I'm wet, Harry," Draco pouted. "I don't – _hic!_ – like being wet. It's ruining my – _hic!_ – day."

"Draco, just let us get out of muggle eyes and I'll apparate us back to the hotel. We'll get the car tomorrow." Fortunately, the words must have penetrated Draco's alcohol-induced fog, because he started staggering over to a side street. Malfoy hung onto Harry's arm as if it was a lifeline, collapsing onto a wall when he finally reached it and pulling Harry with him. Harry was pretty sure the flush creeping up his skin now had nothing to do with the drinks he'd had and everything about the close proximity of their bodies. Not sure he wanted to chance Draco leaning forward just a little bit and finding out exactly what Harry was feeling, Harry apparated.

Unfortunately, apparating straight into the bedroom while drunk was not a good idea.

Harry gasped as Draco landed on top of him, barely holding himself up by his hands, staring straight into each others eyes, their faces mere inches away. The umbrella was flung out of the way and forgotten. "Har…ry?"

"Yes, Draco?" he breathed. God he hoped Draco wouldn't notice his condition. Or maybe he did and wanted the blond to do something about it. Whatever; he couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

"Are we on the bed?"

"…Yes."

"Good."

And with that, Draco collapsed completely, asleep.

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><p>AN: HAHA! I got you there at the end, didn't I? *cackles like the evil Slytherin I am*

Here's the true parts of this chapter: 1) Domani is a real restaurant. I've only gone there for drinks, but I've seen the food and it looks good as hell. It's also expensive as hell too. 2) This is from Part One, but the lovebirds' objects (I used cups) are something that's quite popular. I don't know if it's as common in other countries, but I decided to put it in since I've seen so many different styles and my cousin gave one to her boyfriend this last Valentines Day, to be exact. 3) I really did see a guy with a red bag running out of the MTR like his life depended on it while holding an instrument case. 4) It really did downpour one day (the eleventh, to be exact) and I tried to convince the people I was with to let me run out and buy a damn umbrella from a newspaper stand. They didn't let me (I don't know why) so I made it rain in this chapter to take out my anger *laughs* 5) I love sticker pictures. It is more of a girl's thing, but couples do it all the time and I _had_ to make Harry and Draco do it because of that.

Reviews on Fluff, UST, and any of the factual crap I just gave you would be awesome! Let's aim for the same amount as the chapter I posted (belatedly) for my birthday: 12 reviews!


	9. July 8th

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd tied him to a bed and have my wicked way with him. *laughs* Actually, Harry Potter belongs to JKR and others, not me.

A/N: I will spare you all and make this short: Thank you to all of my reviewers, I'm so glad you loved the fluff/UST. I was surprised by the positive response to the pictures; I was sure I would be bashed for making two grown men do something teenage girls do ^_^ If you haven't reviewed the last chapter, go back and do it. I don't care if you review old chapters. You can do this at anytime, and I will hug you and give you cookies. We all like cookies, yes?

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><p><em>Chapter 8 — July 8<em>_th_

The first thing Draco was aware of was he had never been as comfortable as this before; he did not want to wake up. He was surrounded by something soft, warm, and overall very comfortable. He snuggled deeper into the softness - which smelled very good, by the way - and gave a contented sigh as it pulled him closer. A tiny kiss was dropped onto the top of his head, causing he corners of his lips to curve upward involuntarily. Golden eyelashes fluttered open.

The second thing Draco became aware of was the light. It was like a spear to his head. The light was much too bright, and there was too much of it. Draco whimpered, clamping his eyes closed again as his head throbbed and pounded. He felt the warm, snugly thing wrap itself even tighter around him. "It's okay," it whispered. "Just rest. I'll get a hangover potion for you when you're ready, alright?"

Draco's brows drew together. The warm thing's voice sounded so familiar. In fact, it sounded just like...

"Potter?" Draco shrieked as his eyes flew open and he pushed himself away. A little voice in his mind started bashing him for subjecting himself to that horrible light and whining at the loss of Harry's arms around him. The added strain on Draco's head caused him to moan in agony.

"Draco? Are you okay? What's wrong?" Harry asked worriedly. He lifted a hand toward Draco, but then seemed to think better of it and his hand dropped back to the bed.

"Don't touch me!" The blond yelled, trying to shield his eyes from the light while clutching his throbbing head. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Harry bit his lip and lowered his eyes. "I-I just...I thought you wouldn't mind. You seemed to l-like it too."

Draco ignored how his heart clenched at the brunet's dejected look. "Well, you assumed wrong," he lied, "because I didn't. My head hurts and I don't need this crap first thing in the morning."

He watched as Harry swallowed thickly and got off the bed, head still hung low. "I'll just grab a hangover potion for you, then."

The blond gave a grunt of acknowledgement and flopped back down onto the covers. He had just pulled a pillow over his head when he felt Harry prod him in the side. "What now, Potter?" he snapped irritably.

"Drink this. It'll help."

Draco lifted up a corner of his pillow, squinting his eyes to see the vial of wart green liquid behind held in front of him. Harry was staring at him with a hopeful yet resigned expression; one Draco didn't know how to deal with and resorted to ignoring in favour of downing the potion. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his headache faded. Draco glanced back up at Harry, who had turned his head towards the wall and was now looking dreadfully forlorn. "I-Look, Harry—" he started, but was interrupted by the chiming of the doorbell. Harry rushed to open the door, seemingly grateful to get out of the awkward situation. Draco sighed and followed.

"Hi Harry! I got here as quickly as I could. I mean, I got your message a few hours ago, but then I had to go find Kingsley and ask him to authorize an international portkey for me to get here, and then I had to find your hotel but I'm here now, right? So how far are you on your case? Are these your files? Thank you." Draco watched, stunned, as no other than Hermione Granger, England's best researcher, prance into their room, pulling thick tomes of books out of her handbag that shouldn't have fit and settling in without their help. When neither man responded to her, she lifted her head and seemed to register their apparel. "Did I wake you two up? I thought that since you'd want me to come over right when I got your message, since you didn't specify."

"I sent you that message two days ago, Hermione," Harry finally said, since Draco had no idea what was going on.

Granger rolled her eyes. "Harry, international owls take twenty-four hours at the earliest. Owls _do_ need to eat and sleep, you know."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning. Draco, too, was frowning, but for a completely different matter. He had forgotten how long international owls took. But that meant the presents he had gotten from the admirer couldn't have been from back home, in England. The scrapbook was gifted to him a few hours after the pictures were taken. If that was the case...his admirer was in Hong Kong. That increased Draco's frown. He didn't know anyone in Hong Kong, except for Avril and her friends, but he hadn't met them yet when the gifts started. That left Granger, who just got there, and...Harry. _No, it couldn't be!_ Draco thought frantically. His admirer just _couldn't_ be Harry. That was just wrong in every sense — they had been enemies as children and all those jealous sods in the department would call them unprofessional. But then Draco's mind wandered back to the morning's events and how comfortable he had been, held in Harry's arms. Argh! This was all just too confusing. Draco was _sure_ he didn't feel _that_ way about Harry; hell, he wasn't sure if the admirer really _was_ Harry in the first place!

Draco jumped as he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. "You alright, there?" Harry asked softly, a bit hesitant, understandably, considering how Draco had reacted to physical touch just earlier.

Draco gulped and nodded. "Yeah. Just fine," he lied. "I was just wondering why I didn't get a gift yesterday from the mystery person." He realized as he spoke that it was true. He really hadn't gotten a gift yesterday. Yesterday, the day when he and Potter hadn't been away from each other all day, unlike all the others. Draco watched Harry closely, hoping to catch a clue.

Harry blinked, looking stunned for a moment, before turning his head away, avoiding Draco's eyes. "There was a rose on the shelf in the entrance hallway, under the mirror. I think it came while we were out yesterday."

"A rose?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows. "Hmm. And the gifter had always been so creative with his presents. A mere rose, how unthoughtful," he commented as he strolled down the hall to the bathroom. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder, where Harry was fidgeting and mumbling angrily to himself.

Draco turned back around, near-petrified. This was not possible.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, this was a short filler chapter. Draco's in denial and not cooperating with me. A note to anyone out there who's reading my other fic, "Second Shot at the Stone", I'd like to make a note that I'm trying to finish this fic before I update that one. To be honest, I'm stuck on chapter five and it's not even finished enough to send to my beta yet. Sorry. Anyone who hasn't read "Second Shot at the Stone" should go read it and spam me with reviews, the best weapon for taking down this wall called "writers block". Thanks; remember you guys are my fuel!

**REVIEW!**


	10. July 11th

Disclaimer: JKR & Co owns all, excluding the OCs. Those are mine.

**Please Note** that although Draco and Hermione still call each other by their last names, they _are_ friendly with each other. They're not close friends and because of this and mere habit, they just never bothered changing what they called each other.

A/N: Thank you so much too all of my story-alerters and reviewers! I'm sorry this post came out late, but I have an excuse — I was editing my Fanvideo-Complimentary-Dark!fic oneshot and now it's posted! If you like Evil!Harry, go read it! It's called "Slavebound by an Incubus". *is shamelessly self-pimping.* And since I'm thanking my reviewers, I want to thank any of you who went and gave me some support for my other fic, "Second Shot at the Stone." I wrote a full 1k for that in about an hour after I got one review and two alerts. Keep it up people! I can almost send it off to my beta! And to **mamamae**, I'm so glad someone other than me likes those tea mugs! *squishes you* And to **RocklifeDude**, I'd like to thank you for finding something from each chapter to comment on, even the fillers, which is amazing! Please keep reviewing!

Also, this chapter is a bit longer to make up for my lack of updates. Now, on to the story (since that's what you're really here for, isn't it?):

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><p><em>Chapter 9 — July 11<em>_th_

The past three days had been stifling; the air hot and humid, the air pressure high with no wind. Finally, the clouds had given out, and it was raining buckets again. Draco stood at the glass wall, scowling out at the half-flooded street that matched his mood that evening.

The gifts had started again, the daily rose with a letter and some small trinket. In the days that passed, Draco had received a set of rare potions ingredients, a dark green leather journal, and a pair of black muggle cuff links with a silver _DM_ engraved in silver. The last one had been a surprise for him as he opened the box; Draco had a secret collection of cuff links only a few of his closest friends knew about. This only enforced the idea that either the Mystery Gifter was Harry or Draco had a stalker he never knew about.

_A stalker would make so much more sense_, Draco thought to himself, _Harry couldn't ever think of me that way_.

Harry, it seemed, was putting forth all of his Gryffindor stubbornness into being determined to keep things the same even though it clearly wasn't. Sleeping together was awkward, something it hadn't been even with the complaints Draco had spewed their first night in Hong Kong. Just the day before, when both he and Harry had been reaching for the same lunchbox, their hands brushed each others softly. Draco had pulled his hand away quickly with an apology, but his fingers still tingled with heat where Harry had touched him. Even merely talking to each other over the case seemed much too intimate.

Granger had gotten herself a room a few floors above them, although it was merely for sleeping as she had practically camped out in their room every day. Research and work took on a more serious note and Draco didn't like it. He didn't like staying cooped up in their hotel room, following protocol like everyone else and he most definitely didn't like working through Granger's methods — not because she was muggleborn, as his younger self would have said, but because researching Hong Kong was useless when the Ministry only published and gave out information about pureblood society when they were working with halfbloods. He and Harry had already tried researching earlier that month — Draco _knew_ they weren't going to reach a breakthrough on the case if they stayed cooped up in a hotel room with only books and tension for company.

"I'm done with this," Draco said angrily. He turned violently away from window and stalked across the room. "Research isn't going to help us, Granger, face it. We might have been able to solve cases before like this, but we can't solve _this_ case that way."

Granger placed her book onto the coffee table in front of her before focusing all her attention at glaring at Draco, looking scandalized. She opened her mouth to respond, but Harry beat her to it.

"What do you think we do then?"

"What you and I are best at, of course," Draco drawled, swinging the closet doors open with a dramatic _Bang!_ "We're going to break the rules." He pulled out one of the outrageous outfits Avril had given him and winked at the ex-Gryffindors.

"But you _can't_ do that!" Granger exclaimed, shooting out of her chair. "What those people do; it's illegal! By both muggle _and_ wizarding laws!"

"We'll be fine," Draco waved it off as he handed the outfit to Harry, noting that the brunet took it with no objection whatsoever.

"Malfoy — no! What if we get caught? You two are _aurors_!" Granger argued, reaching to tug the clothes out of Harry's grasp, who, in return, held them tighter. "Harry, not you too! I am not letting you two go out all alone and break the laws we work to enforce!"

"We're only going undercover, Granger," Draco pointed out, "The best way to get information is always from the inside. Besides, we won't be alone. You're coming with us." He grinned and pointed his wand at her. Before she could even respond, Draco flicked his wand, transfiguring her modest grey t-shirt and shorts into a naughty-looking ripped black camisole with a black and hot pink chequered miniskirt in one swoop.

"Malfoy!" She shrieked; she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide some of the newly exposed skin.

"Hmm…" Draco murmured, tilting his head as he scrutinized his handiwork. He flicked his wand again and a black tie with a pink floral design swirling around on it shot out from the tip, wrapping itself around the girl's neck and tying itself into a loose knot. "Much better. We'll have to do something about that hair, though."

"I did not agree to this!"

"Hermione, Draco's right," Harry said as he walked out of the bathroom. He was sporting a pair of slashed black skinny jeans held up by a thick belt with hanging chains and silver studs lining it. An emerald green shirt with sleeves ripped so it gave the image of a tank top with loops of torn cloth for sleeves and a snug black vest completed the look. He was just snapping the thick buckle bracelet onto his wrist as he spoke. Draco tried not to contemplate what his thoughts about how hot Harry looked right then meant. "We won't make any progress if we don't try something else. Besides, last time Draco did this, it worked. And we'll have you with us this time, in case we miss anything."

Granger seemed to be considering it — probably because Harry agreed to the plan — so Draco took that as his cue to head to the bathroom. He stripped himself of his silk shirt and trousers, replacing them with a pair of leather pants that showed off his every curve and a rumpled dark steel blue top unbuttoned to just above his navel and hung just framing his arse. Cold-steel coloured chains wrapped around his neck and hung down his chest, the shirt covering them just enough to be a teaser. The long, thin sleeves of the shirt were sinfully tight, wrapping around his thin but muscled arms.

With a quick charm, Draco's hair shortened in the back into petite spikes and his fringe grew down to his ear and off to the side, in a mock emo cut. Another spell streaked his newly-lengthened hair to be streaked in the same fashion as he had it last time; only instead of emerald green streaks, they were a silvery blue, making his blond hair look ethereal. Draco clipped on the (fake) star earring, lined his eyes in kohl, and pulled on his dragonhide boots with criss-crossing buckles and fingerless gloves.

He gave himself a sexy — even if he did say so himself — wink in the mirror, and left to see how his partners were fairing.

xXxXxXx

"_Dragon!_"

All Harry saw was the electric blue blur of a short Chinese girl leap off of the chair she was on and at Draco.

"Hello, Hallah," Draco greeted, giving the girl an awkward hug before peeling her off of him. "Where's Av—Phier?"

The blue-haired girl appeared to not have noticed the slip, as she gave a small teasing smirk before turning and waving her hand rapidly at a random space in front of her. "She's around here _somewhere_."

"Don't be a tease," Draco replied smoothly, a smirk of his own curling his lips. Hallah giggled at him. _That's smile is fake! _Harry wanted to yell. _He's _mine_! _

"Yes, Hallah, don't tease," Another girl's voice came from behind them. Harry recognized her as Heart from the pensieve memory. The man next to her had natural black hair, but his fringe was died a dirty blond. Unlike the woman, he wore a scowl on his face. _G-man_, Harry thought.

"Oh Heart!" Hallah laughed, "Don't go ruining my fun! You know I don't steal."

"Heart," Draco gave her a polite but slightly stiff nod. She smiled gently in response. "I suppose you might be willing to inform me of Phier's whereabouts?"

"Ever so formal," Heart replied airily, taking on an expression reminiscent of Luna Lovegood. "I believe she's in one of the VIP rooms. Follow me."

She took a step forward but G-man held a blazer-clad arm out, blocking her path. "Not so fast. Who are the dogs?" he demanded

"My friends," Draco replied smoothly. "They're with me."

"They can't enter VIP area." G-man sneered, curling his lip. Heart and Hallah were glancing back and forth between the two men, eyes wild with excitement as they whispered into each other's ears. "The wards are set to invitation-only."

"They're invited." A voice came from behind the Chinese man. Harry shivered slightly at the calm but dangerous tone. G-man whipped around to see just who would dare defy someone of his rank and coming face to face with Phi— _Avril_.

The girl stood there, green hair flaring out from her face, eyes narrowed, lips twisted into an icy sneer.

"What—"

"I _said_, they're invited. You might not accept them as your people but I'm accepting them as mine." G-man glared at her, lips twitching as if he was just barely holding in a retort that he knew would be useless. Avril smirked and threaded her fingers though Draco's, pulling him behind her as she walked away. "Come." Harry and Hermione followed, Harry noticing Hallah slip a stack of bills into Heart's hand with a pout.

The quartet made their way into the back VIP rooms, where Avril ushered them in quickly before throwing a few complex — and probably dark — locking and silencing spells at the door. Once done, she dropped Draco's hand and sauntered farther into the neon-on-black decorated room. Plopping down on a silver-green, rounded sectional, she spoke, switching into English. "And who are _you_?" This was directed to Hermione.

"I'm Hermione Granger, Top Researcher for the British Ministry," Hermione said, surprisingly politely in response to Avril's snarky tone and holding out one black-with-pink-sparkles manicured hand out for the Chinese girl to shake. "I'm working to help Harry and Malfoy with this case."

Avril looked her over, eyes scanning Hermione from her sleeked and charm-highlighted hair to her transfigured ankle boots. A tiny nod of approval was given and she grabbed Hermione's hand, using it to yank the surprised girl into the seat next to her. Harry and Draco stared. "Well?" Avril asked, watching them. "Sit! I've told you, Draco, I'm not a Legillimens; you'll have to tell me why you're here."

"Just checking in on how things are going on your side. Have you received any calls from Wyclyve since?"

"No. I did receive a sms though," Avril replied, pulling a pouch from a hidden pocket in her skirt. "I got you two a phone; it'll be easier for me to contact you and vice versa this way. I forwarded the message to them." She turned the pouch upside-down. Two touch-screen mobiles fell out onto her palm and she handed one to Draco and the other to Harry. "I taped your number to the back, and all of our people's numbers are put in already."

Harry tapped the device in his own hand, glancing at Draco as the screen lit up. The blond was tapping the screen randomly, his face pulled into a scowl in frustration. Harry gave an amused smile, reaching over to help his crush. "Like this, Draco." It took him but a minute to pull up the message Avril had sent him. Draco leaned away from him just slightly, but nodded his thanks.

_He's just a plaything. I know you love me.  
><em>_Wait for me. We'll be together soon._

"He has a spy," Draco announced, lifting his head from the small screen. "There's no way he would know about us otherwise."

"I don't think so," Avril disagreed. "You two _do_ kind of stand out — there aren't that many English in China, if you haven't noticed."

"No, it makes sense," Hermione pointed out, turning to face the other girl. "You two didn't bother with a glamour to make you look Asian, so you already draw people's attention. But only your inner circle knows about your 'relationship' with Draco. One of them has to be working with Wyclyve."

"We'll need a profile for each person in your inner circle," Draco cut in, "as soon as possible."

"I can get those for you."

"Is there anyone we should specifically look out for?"

"G-man, maybe," Avril thought aloud. "We had another fight the day after you met him. We're of the same rank so he can't do anything publicly without hurting his own reputation but I would be wary of him just in case."

"There's something else," Hermione said, looking at the screen of Harry's new mobile. "_'Wait_ _for me. We'll be together soon.'_ Doesn't that sound a bit off to any of you?"

"What do you mean, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"It just sounds as if there's more behind those words." Hermione frowned. "I can't quite put my finger on it. He's planning to do something with the mirror — and he thinks that whatever he does will make Avril fall in love with him."

"That's ridiculous! Robert wouldn't do something so…" Avril waved her arms wildly, pausing as she mentally searched for a word, "_insane_."

"We have to consider everything," said Draco. "And I wouldn't put it past him to do something _insane_." He sneered the word. "He's not the Wyclyve you knew anymore."

"Just three years," Avril mumbled. "It's only been three years."

"You haven't even seen him for three _years_. Not three _days_, Avril. People change."

"Can we not talk about this?" Avril asked quietly. "I know it's necessary for us to catch Robert but I don't like thinking about it too much." The other three nodded, Draco reaching out and giving the other girl an understanding squeeze on the shoulder. "What else do you need my help on?"

"We need your help finding half-blood establishments." Harry answered quickly, trying to get a word in. He didn't feel very comfortable merely standing on the sidelines, watching Draco and Avril. Although to be honest, Harry just wasn't very comfortable around Avril at all._ He _should be the one Draco cared about.

The girl in question smirked, although it was a bit weak. "Finally. And here I thought we weren't good enough at hiding."

"Do you have a list of places we could look up?" Hermione asked eagerly as she pulled out a self-inked quill and a roll of parchment from her pocket and returned them back to their original size.

"You'll have to go there if you want information about it. None of our societies are published in the public books. The Ministry would tear us down if they knew all that was in there," Avril replied. She took the offered parchment, but ignored the quill. Instead, she tapped her wand onto the parchment and the words swirled their way out from the tip and onto the parchment. "This will let you in past the wards to our library. I'll take you there now."

"What spell is that?" Hermione nodded enthusiastically as she asked, the look in her eyes practically _begging_ for more information to learn.

"A handwriting spell I invented…years ago." There was momentary falter in her words and she looked away from them. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco stiffen just a bit, as if he understood her unspoken words. It really did bother Harry just how close Draco and Avril acted even though they only knew each other for such a short time.

The blond gave a slight cough, "Well, why don't you guys go? I'd rather to observe the club, if you don't mind."

"I'll join you," said Harry hurriedly. He was sick of research and books and besides, clubbing with Draco or research? It was obvious which would win out — _especially_ when the blond was dressed like a fucking Harry buffet.

"We'll see you later then." He watched Avril pulling Hermione over to the floor-length mirror on the opposite side of the room and the two walking straight through it, Hermione clutching the parchment as a shield in front of her as she went.

"Shall we go?" Draco asked, already by the door. Harry nodded and they headed back out to the club.

xXxXxXx

Draco was amazed by how well the club was decorated. The black walls were decorated with swirling, neon, floral designs all the way up to the ceiling, where a mysterious mist wafted down to the floor. Flashing disco lights came shooting through the mist, each colour extraordinarily sharp. It was a bit like walking through a wizards' battle — lights as bright as spells flashing across the room, once in a while striking a target. Only now, when the light hit someone, instead of falling down stupefied, the person seemed to glow for a second. But then the light would move away and it would seem as if the glow was merely the creation of one's imagination.

It must have already been pretty late, as the dance floor was crowded, full of sweaty bodies gyrating to the heavy beat of the fast music. "Let's go over to the bar," he shouted into his partner's ear before grabbing his hand and pulling him through the throng of people.

"Two firewhiskeys," Draco told the bartender.

"I'll…I'll be right back," Harry told him before rushing away. "Loo."

Draco nodded, sipping his drink. He swivelled around on his stool, scanning the club for anyone who might be working for Wyclyve. He spotted Heart and her boyfriend dancing, the two of them practically shagging out in the middle of the dance floor. LaBa was playing 5-10-15-20 with another bloke and winning brilliantly. Hallah was missing. G-man was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. As if feeling Draco's eyes on him, the brunet lifted his head and glared at Draco from under his dirty blond fringe.

"Hey you." Draco turned around to the bartender and raised an eyebrow at the greeting. "I'm supposed to give this to you." A box slid across the counter.

It was wrapped in blue paper, with a big silver bow tied on top. After checking it for hexes or curses, Draco slowly pulled the wrappings off. It was a box of Lemon-and-Green-Apple flavoured, frosting-filled Sugar Quills. A note was tapped to the top.

_I know you have a sweet tooth, al__though even with all that sugar most would say you're too sour. You can be like a lemon, sour and sharp, or maybe like those Green Apples you always have on hand. But I know you, and I know that you can be sweet when you want. Your sugar is all hidden in the inside. Would you be brave enough to spill some of it out and love me too?_

"What's that?" Harry's voice pulled Draco out from the trance he had fallen into after reading the message. Draco stared at Harry. Could it be him? It just _couldn't_ be…

"Isn't this from you?"

"What?" Harry's eyes darted to the box. "It—No? I mean..."

_Well, it only makes sense_, Draco thought as Harry stuttered confusedly. Of course Harry didn't love him. Draco was shocked to find himself a bit sad over the fact though it really ought to be this way. Harry wasn't the secret admirer and Draco only guessed it was him because he was much too eager to find out who the _real_ gifter was. He covered up with a trademark smirk, laughing as he said "I'm just joking. It's only a gift from the mystery person. Don't worry about it. I don't care too much for them." He lied as he slipped he box and note quickly into his pocket and turned back to the bartender to order another drink, not catching the hurt look that flashed across Harry's face.

* * *

><p>*A typical Chinese Lunchbox is a white stryofoam box with white rice on the bottom with a few pieces of meat (either chicken or pork, usually) on top with one leaf of some Chinese vegetables. A lunchbox is usually only eaten by financially-challenged people (because they're not very good but rather cheap), people in a great hurry andor are very busy, or people with no friends.

*5-10-15-20 is a drinking game. Two people hold their hands out as fists in the middle. One person calls out either 5, 10, 15, or 20, as the two people open their fists. You can open one fist, both fists, don't change at all, close one fist, or close both fists. If the caller calls out the correct total number of fingers (1 open palm=5 fingers, 1 closed palm=0) open, they win and the other person drinks. You start with your hands as they are from the last round. Winner calls the numbers until they loose, then the other person starts calling. You can also gamble while playing, but most only drink.

**Note: Here's a little time frame explanation. Avril/Harry/Draco/etc are all around 24 to 26 years old (depending on their birthdays). Avril was kicked out of her family at around 17 years old (she was still a child to her parents, but old enough to survive on her own) so she's been around the "mafia" (for lack of better word) for about 8/9 years. The Wyclyve case is still open and not too full of information, so it makes sense for Wyclyve to have left for England around three years (maybe about 3 and a half) before "present" time. This gives Wyclyve time to build up his Dark Artefacts business to the point where the Ministry intervenes.

A/N: Mehhhh….RL has been taking a toll on me and my muse is giving me the silent treatment for having no time to actually sit down to write. I'm so sorry for how long this chapter took to update. Thank heavens for Nimielle on LJ who pulled me out of my writers block. I never abandon a story once I start it, though, so don't worry if an update is just a tad late. At least we're getting somewhere now…or maybe only I see progress because only I know how this is going to end ^_^

Lemon-and-green-apple-flavoured, frosting-filled sugar quills for all those who review? I'd like to see if any of you guys can guess where I'm going with the case. **Tell me your theories please?**


	11. July 12th

Disclaimer: JKR and Co owns all things Harry Potter.

A/N: Uh, yeah, so this is meant to be filler, although you still have to pay attention because some of it is actually important. Hehe ^_^ *gets rotten tomatoes thrown at me* Hey now! It's an update, be happy! *hands out sugar quills as a reward for putting up with me* Also, as I was re-reading the last chapter (so I know what to put in this chapter), I realized the ending is a bit confusing and not-Draco sounding. I fixed it. If you understood what I was saying the first time, there's no real need to go back and take a look. If you were majorly confused, go re-read that last paragraph.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Ten — July 12<em>_th_

Harry felt like slamming his head against the wall. Unfortunately, that was not an option, as the wall was covered in roses of every colour and said roses had not yet been unthorned.

"Argh!" He groaned, dropping his head onto the counter in front of him.

"Thinking too strenuous of an activity for your brain, Mr. Potter?"

Harry lifted his head to see Ting Ting's —Harry finally remembered the florist's name — younger sister sneering across the counter from him, the disdainful expression looking out of place among the pink frills and curly chappatsu hair. "Huh?"

The girl rolled her large, dark brown eyes. "Merlin only knows how you defeated that loser Dark Lord over in England."

"Don't be mean, Avril," Ting Ting scolded lightly as she came out from the back room.

That caught Harry's attention.

"_Avril_?" He gasped, jerking upright and accidentally hitting the counter in the process. "Ow."

Avril snickered, twisting her long, manicured fingers around the nametag she wore.

"I _knew_ there was something suspicious about you," said Harry with a scowl and narrowed eyes.

She merely stuck her nose into the air. "I hardly think teaching you how to seduce Draco is _suspicious_. You ought to be thanking me!"

"You know the man Mr. Potter is courting?" Ting Ting injected, leaning over from the rack of white lilies she was arranging to listen in.

Avril put on a smug smile. Harry noticed that there was a certain guarded air beneath it. "Yes, of course I do. You know the Malfoys, do you not?"

Ting Ting fidgeted awkwardly but nevertheless replied with a small smile. "Yes. They're an old a French pureblooded family, aren't they?"

"They've been mostly English for centuries, sister." Avril raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, I merely forgot is all," the older girl waved it off. "Never mind. What's troubling you, Mr. Potter?"

"Draco, obviously," Avril said. "Why else would he be here?"

Ting Ting gave her sister a '_please don't'_ look but didn't comment. "Mr. Potter?"

"It does have to do with Draco, actually," Harry admitted. He blushed and scratched the back of his neck. "You see, he's figured out the secret admirer is me."

"And how is that a problem? Is he bad in bed?" Avril asked, eyes wide in sarcastic curiosity. "I'm sure an arse that hot couldn't be _that_ bad."

"Avril," Ting Ting warned softly. It was a half-hearted attempt, though, and Avril ploughed on undeterred.

"Or was he repulsed by the idea of the giftter being _you_? I mean, he does have good taste and you look kind of…." She trailed off, making a show of looking Harry over. "How _did_ he find out anyway?"

"Erm, I told him it wasn't me," Harry said. "I don't know how he found out. I had just told the bartender to give Draco his gift yesterday, you know, at the club. Next thing I knew, he was asking me if it was from me."

"Then why did you deny it?"

"I—I wasn't ready, okay?" Harry blurted, waving his arms wildly. "It was just so out of the blue and I hadn't expected him to figure it out so soon and I didn't know what to say!"

Avril groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "You are _hopeless_."

"What was his reaction, after you denied it?" Ting Ting asked as she placed a soothing hand onto Harry's shoulder.

"He looked…" Harry thought for a moment, "a bit sad, maybe. But I think that's just wishful thinking on my part. He's probably still suspicious of me, I mean, he kinda has been for a few days..."

"Yes, the tension between you two _was_ a bit thick, now that I think about it," Avril mused. "I personally think you two should just shag and get it out of your system. But no, you wanted to play it the romantic way, and here we are."

"If it's not too much trouble—"

"We've helped you this far, Potter. I don't help lost cases." She gave him a lopsided smirk, before pulling out her wand and a piece of parchment. Harry smiled back, much to his own surprise. "Well let's start with this. We want him to _wish_ it was you, and since you already denied it when you had the chance, the best path for you to choose is reverse psychology. Make him think it really _isn't _you but _could_ be you, if he pays close enough attention to the clues. And to be honest, if he's paying that much attention to how the clues connect back to you, I'd say it's pretty safe to call off the plan and just tell him."

"Uh, okay?"

Ting Ting rolled her eyes. "What she means is to be more subtle with your clues. Sending him things that only you two would understand isn't such a good idea."

Harry nodded. "Of course. What should I give him, then, this time?"

"Start with something less personal. Maybe a book or hobby that everyone knows he likes," Ting Ting offered.

"And don't give such obvious clues as to who you are. Talk about something important to him that quite a few people close to him could say they know about. Or even better, a misleading clue. Tell him something about yourself that he doesn't know about you," said Avril. She looked excited, a pink flush spreading across her cheek as she bounced slightly in anticipation.

"No, don't use a misleading clue just yet. Malfoys are clever and making such a wild change of direction in your messages will only prove that you _are_ the secret admirer. You have to ease into it," Ting Ting contradicted.

Harry tapped his wand against his chain and thought for a bit, before pulling the parchment in his direction. "How about this?"

xXxXxXx

"Mail's here!" Granger called out as she trotted her way down the entrance hall. "You have a letter from Kingsley, one from the International Magical Office of Law — actually, one from the British one and one from the Chinese one — a letter from the Chinese Minister, a letter from Avril, and another gift."

Draco looked up. "I have a gift?" Granger smiled knowingly and handed the small wooden box, rose, and letter to him, looking at him for permission to open the Ministries' letters. Draco merely waved at her, already distracted by the admirer's letter.

_I like to fly.  
><em>_Flying helps you clear your head. You don't need to trouble yourself with life's problems when you're flying. It's just you, your broom, and the endless sky.  
><em>_I hope we can fly together, one day._

Draco raised an eyebrow at the note. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Shrugging to himself, he placed the letter gently onto the table and cracked open the clasp holding the box closed. There's a bit of a buzzing, and then a golden ball shot straight out of the box. _Thwack!_ "Ow!"

Granger looked over from her seat, lips twisting this way and that as she tried to keep from laughing out in obvious amusement. Draco rubbed the eye the golden ball had hit dead on, scowling. "What the bloody hell _is_ that?"

"I do believe that's a snitch."

Draco turned to glare at the stupid golden ball, a mere streak of gold flashing around the room. He was a seeker, however, and with a quick swipe of his hand, he caught the ball. It _was_ a snitch. The moment it touched Draco's hand, a swirly script started spiralling across its golden surface.

_July Twelfth — The Twelfth Day of Courtship_

"That's awfully romantic, Draco. Who's it from?" Draco turned to see Granger looking over his shoulder, her never-ending curiosity spelled out on her face.

"I don't know. I haven't figured it out yet," Draco replied. Even after Harry's denial and confusion when he'd asked him the day before, Draco was still suspicious — he wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, after all.

"Doesn't that handwriting look familiar?" Granger pointed out. Draco frowned. Granger was right. It _did_ look familiar. In fact, it looked like...

"Avril's Handwriting." As Draco spoke it, he realized it was true. It looked identical to Avril's handwriting spell. He quickly _Accio_-ed the rest of the notes from the gifter and the letters from Avril.

"They're the same," Granger breathed. Draco could only nod.

xXxXxXx

Harry smiled happily as he started back to the hotel. He was walking; just taking his time as it was absolutely brilliant weather — all blue skies with a few puffy white clouds to act as a translucent screen for the burning sunlight. There was even a slight breeze to help down the heavy July heat. Good weather like this was rare in Hong Kong; the towering muggle skyscrapers and busy crowds did nothing to help the stifling humidity. At least crowds were always thinner in wizarding areas — Purebloods were adamant on Flooing or apparating from place to place rather than walking.

Suddenly, a familiar face caught Harry's eye. "G-man?" he whispered to himself. "What's he doing here?"

It certainly _looked_ like G-man. Harry could have sworn the features on that young face was the exact same. In fact, the only differences between the two were that this man's hair was fully brunette, not at all bleached like G-man's fringe was, and this man was wearing robes, not muggle jeans and T-shirts. Harry sped up, hurrying after the other wizard. Unfortunately, the man was walking rather quickly, and it was making it hard for Harry to stay inconspicuous. This man seemed so calm and comfortable walking among Purebloods and Ministry supporters, something Harry would never have expected a Half-Blood like G-man to be. Then, seemingly out of the blue, the man ducked into a side alley and out of Harry's line of sight. The Auror made to follow, but a voice stopped him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned, blinking in surprise. "Avril?" The girl's pink frilled robes were blowing out behind her and her cheeks were flushed as she ran towards him, waving a pouch of something in her hand.

"I forgot to give this to you. You three will need it." _For the case_.

Harry nodded. "Thanks. I'm in a bit of a hurry, if you don't mind…?"

"Go," she waved him off. As soon as the words left her cherry lips, he turned and took off towards the side street. It was empty.

"Fuck," Harry swore before apparating back to the hotel. He didn't feel like walking anymore.

* * *

><p>AN: If anyone has any gifts they'd like to see, feel free to PM me or let me know in a review. I still need to think up stuff for a few more of Harry's gifts.

I will happily whore out chapters for reviews! *sticks one into a bunny costume and puts on display*


	12. July 13th

Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to JKR. See earlier Disclaimers if you really care.

A/N: Oh my gosh! I'm **so** sorry this is late! November was a very hectic month for me in RL. I didn't even start this until yesterday Dx. Don't worry though, I never abandon fics! I'll get to writing eventually.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Eleven — July 13<em>_th_

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Locomotor Mortis_!"

"_Conjunctivitis_!"

"_Immobulus_!"

"_Suspensum __Aperio_!"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed as he was flipped upside down by Draco's spell.

Draco smirked smugly at him, slipping his wand into its holster. "Been slacking on your duelling skills, Harry?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "No."

"Ah, well," Draco continued. He circled Harry's upside-down body, chuckling as he did so. "I _am_ a Malfoy after all. No one beats a Malfoy."

_We'll see about _that, Harry thought, _Levicorpus!_

Draco gave a high pitched squeal as he, too, was flipped upside-down and hung in the hair by his ankles.

"You were saying?"

Draco scowled at him. "You cheated!"

"You didn't take my wand away," Harry pointed out. "The duel doesn't end until you take my wand away and have me bound and at your mercy."

"We're partners. I don't need to bind you to win a practice duel!" Draco spluttered.

Harry leaned closer, so that his nose was nearly touching Draco's. "Maybe I _want_ to be bound."

Draco blinked and squirmed a bit — which was quite a feat, considering his current position — and lifted a hand to hold Harry away from him. However, he once again forgot the fact that they were dangling upside down, and once he pushed Harry away, the brunet swung right back as a pendulum would, causing the two men to smash foreheads.

"Ow!"

"You boys act like children around each other," a feminine voice behind them alerted them to Hermione's presence. Two flicks of her wand and both men collapsed to the ground head first, causing her to giggle.

"Was there a _reason_ you're in here?" Draco snapped, obviously agitated at everyone for making him look like a fool (not that he would admit that, as Harry knew).

"I'd like to remind you that if you don't want to be late for you meeting with the Chinese Minister, you better get a move on," Hermione replied, tilting her head giving them a sickly sweet smile that sent chills down Harry's spine. He wondered absently where she had learned to smirk like that. "You have, oh, just about ten minutes to get it together, no big deal."

"Fuck!" Draco's cursed before bolting out of the practice room. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"He takes over an hour to primp his hair," Harry explained. She smirked again.

xXxXxXx

"Harry Potter! Such an honour to see you again, my boy! Come in, come in." The minister ushered them into his office. "My, my, and Draco Malfoy, yes? Wonderful family, the Malfoys. My father had the pleasure of working with your grandfather and so on and so forth. If you're anything like them, it will be a pleasure to work with you as well."

Draco gave the Minister a forced smile, not even _attempting_ to make it look genuine. He wasn't proud of his ancestors' underhand dealings or of their views on pureblood supremacy. After all, he had supported their views as a child and look where that got him. "I'm sure it will be delightful."

This seemed to please the Minister, who gave them a grin before taking a seat behind his desk. "Please, sit." They sat. "I've called you here today just for a report on your progress, nothing big. You're welcome to stay as long you need, of course, but I do hope I'll get to witness England's best Aurors and their 'supreme efficiency', as Kingsley assured me." The Minister paused to take a sip of his tea, watching the two of them - with a rather creepy expression in his eyes, in Draco's opinion - over the rim of his mug. "Well, go on, impress me."

"We're quite close to tracking down Wyclyve and his men, sir." Harry offered as he handed a folder they had complied across the desk for the Minister to take. "We've spoken to several informants, who will remain anonymous for the time being in respect for their privacy. They've pointed us to several places Wyclyve frequented often in the past and if we can get an idea of what he's thinking, we'll be able to catch him."

"Yes, yes, of course. I have faith you'll catch him just fine," The Minister waved it off before clasping his hands together and leaning forward eagerly. "Now, about these places you mentioned—"

"Yes, um, about that…" Draco watched as Harry glanced over at him, to which Draco responded with a minute nod. The two of them had agreed to not inform the Ministry what they knew of the half-blood's hideouts, or at least not yet, since they didn't want to risk the Minister sending in an Auror raid before the Wyclyve case was closed. "I'm afraid we can't release that information just yet."

"And why not?" The Minister was frowning now, glaring reproachfully down his pointy nose. "This is my country and I will not let these _hooligans_ put my country in Danger.

"Minister," Draco cut in smoothly, drawing the older man's attention away from Harry. "If you would allow me an explanation?"

"Yes, yes, of course," replied the Minister hurriedly, as if realizing that he wasn't being as subtle as he thought he was.

"We're working undercover," said Draco, causing the Minister's bushy black eyebrows shot up to his hairline at his bluntness. Usually, they wouldn't have revealed even these details. Kingsley understood the importance of keeping an operation secret. Besides, Harry and Draco always got good results. If they said they couldn't tell him something, they must have a good reason. However, this wasn't a normal operation, what with the being in a different country and all. They couldn't risk fouling Britain's relations with the Chinese. Draco wasn't sure just how much they could get away with not telling. "Wyclyve doesn't work out in the open and you know it. That leaves one route: infiltration from the inside. We find who's working for him, what he's planning, and that will give us where he's hiding out. And if we know where he's hiding out…" Draco trailed off, leaning back in his chair with a smirk and opening his arms in the universal 'what' motion. "I'm sure even you can guess how this will end."

The Minister fidgeted awkwardly but managed to blunder out a response, "Er…um, what a wonderful idea. I merely wanted to assist you," the Minister recovered, "My men are skilled in digging out these scoundrels. They've been trained to sniff them out, so to speak. I'll assign a team to work with you. Yes, it is so _very_ dangerous, after all, and I don't want England to lose its best Aurors —"

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Sir," Harry cut him off, "We _are_ England's best, as you've said?"

The Minister gave a fake cough; his face pinching in a rather disapproving way. After a moment, however, he regained his posture and smiled wickedly at the two Aurors. "Very well. If that is all, gentlemen, I must call this meeting to an end. I'm very busy, you know."

Draco gave him a cold sneer reminiscent of the one his father had given Fudge many times all those years ago and swept out of the room, Harry right by his side.

xXxXxXx

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Harry asked as he swivelled his Yogurttime stool to look at Draco before swivelling back to refill his spoon with another scoop of Mocha-flavoured frozen yogurt.

"There's something he's not telling us," Draco murmured as he swirled his spoon among the Oreo shavings in his own cup of green apple yogurt. "I don't think we told him enough for him to form his own plans, but the Chinese Minister is a smart man. We'll have to watch what we tell him."

"Re_lax_, Draco. It'll be fine. We're very close anyway. Hermione's looking over the profiles that Av—Phier's given us as we speak If anyone can find who the spy is, it will be her," Harry reassured him.

"Speaking of Phier, Harry, do you—"

"Have you tried this Mochi stuff? It's really good. We should get some to bring back to England. Here, have some," Harry babbled and shoved his spoon at Draco, who leaned away slowly.

"Harry, I was aski—mphh!"

Harry grinned and calmly licked the remains of yogurt off his spoon. "Good, isn't it."

"You," Draco jabbed his own spoon at Harry, "should have been in Slytherin, taking advantage of my talking to shove food in my mouth."

"I know," replied Harry.

* * *

><p>AN: I was going to post this last weekend, but then my computer crashed and I had to spend all week recovering my files -_- Take pity on me and leave a review, please?


	13. July 14th Part One

Disclaimer: All situations, characters, etc relating to Harry Potter belong to JKR.

A/N: I know I've been MIA, but before you pelt me with rotten tomatoes, just know that a lot of stuff has been happening in RL and I really needed to take a break and regroup with myself before writing more of this story. And then I had to do research for this chapter and next chapter. I'm doing my best though, thank you for sticking with me!

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><p><em>Chapter Twelve — July 14<em>_th __(Part One)_

Draco loved traveling. He really did. It was probably what kept him going on these international trips. So many strange and wonderful things to see and explore! Every country had its own sights and Draco wanted to see them all. And he didn't even have to pay to do it either! In fact, it was required of him, considering he was half of the infamous international Auror Team.

Such were the thoughts running through Draco's head as the stood on top of the Peak, looking down at the city from one of the balcony-like areas on the trail. Granger had been the one to direct them to the Peak. It was one of the more heavily populated areas for half-bloods. Seeing as it was also one of the largest tourist areas for muggles, few purebloods resided there. The trail was supposed to be where the entryway to the half-blood establishments were. Avril had made them all sign a blood contract vowing not to reveal any locations she gave them more specific than the district they were in to the Ministry before they got the addresses. It wasn't too unfair, Draco reasoned, considering Avril was putting her whole community in danger just to find help for her friend (even though Wyclyve was more of a stalker than a friend, in Draco's opinion).

"I think it's this one," Harry called out to him from behind a 'CAUTON: MAINTENANCE IN PROGRESS' sign. "It's disguised as a maintenance area, so the muggles won't notice — there really _are_ too many maintenance areas in Hong Kong, just like Phier said. But this one's different," Harry said, drawing his wand, "_Ostendis te._" At Harry's words, the words _釋放你的血名 _appeared onto the padlock that held the door in the metal walls closed. "Can you feel it? There's almost a hum coming from the magic."

"'Release your name of blood'," Draco murmured, casting a quick translation charm on the lock. "This is it, all right."

"You've got the unlocking spell?"

Draco reached into his pocket for the list. "Yeah, I got it. _Takayama civitatem_." The padlock clicked open, and the rusty chain slithered out of the way for them. "Let's go."

The two Aurors stepped inside the gate, astounded by the sight of the city around them. The city was elaborately built, designed to emphasize the traditional Asian buildings with a twist that combined modern-day muggle technology to the antique styles. Old-fashioned Chinese towers lined the streets instead of skyscrapers, magically altered cars zoomed past along the roads (and a few in the sky), but what caught the Auror's attention the most were the people. All were dressed in styles originally created by muggles, but these outfits had a life of their own. Literally. That is, the designs and patterns on the clothing moved — flowers on a skirt would sway when a breeze blew by, cats embroidered into a scarf meowed at other passer-by animals, a game of chess being played on a chequered shirt. And that wasn't all. The hems of pants would lift themselves up when the wearer stepped across a patch of mud. Ties loosened themselves when it grew too hot. Ribbons and hair clips refastening themselves when a strand of hair fell out of place.

If Draco hadn't preferred robes to muggle clothes, he would probably go crazy and run off for a shopping spree. Now that he thought about it, he still might.

"We should ask for directions to the places Phier has on the list," commented Harry as he took in the sights.

Draco shook himself out of his mental happy place — which may or may not include many piles of new clothing — and nodded, pulling the list out of his pocket. "Let's start with the Snooker Club on First Street. The girl there is an acquaintance of Phier's. She had to pull a few strings, but Phier wrote here that if she's around, she'll help us."

Harry nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roughly sketched map of the city. "This way."

They walked down the street, drinking in the sights around them as they searched for the Snooker Club. The city was cleaner than Muggle Hong Kong, no doubt due to magical air filters and cleaning spells. It was refreshing.

"I believe it's this building," said Draco. He raised a hand to gesture at the tower at the corner of First Street and what translated to Firebird Street. It was shaped like one of the ancient Chinese towers, but was also designed and decked in trendy, modern décor.

"Let's go," Harry answered. They entered the building swiftly, Draco taking in the muggle security cameras hidden all around the entrance with notice me not charms. He had to admit, it was brilliant, the way the half-bloods combined magic and muggle cultures in there society.

"Hi, can I help you?" A young man approached them, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black vest, like a formal snooker player.

"We're looking for Emily Chung," Draco replied, looking down his nose at the shorter man. "Is she here?"

"Excuse me, sir, but who are you?"

"We're aur—"

Draco cut Harry off. "I _said_, we're looking for Emily Chung." His tone was cold and unwavering, as if daring the Chinese man to make him ask again. "Where is she?"

The other man stood defiantly. "She's not here."

"Sorry for wasting your time," Harry said quickly, tugging on Draco's arm. "Common, let's go. We can come back later."

Draco didn't move. "I'm not asking you again," Draco growled lowly, he leaned forward slowly until he was all the other man could see. "_Where. Is. Emily. Chung._"

The man leaned back; his eyes were looking around wildly and his voice shook as he spoke, but he still stood tall. "This way."

Draco snagged Harry's arm and followed quickly after the man.

"How did you know he was lying?" Harry whispered.

"The order of his words," Draco replied under his breath. "If she was really gone, why would the first thing that he does is ask us who we were instead of telling us she wasn't here?"

"He may have done it for security's sake?"

"No way. He was nervous, but not scared. He was fidgeting with the corner of his shirt; you can see the wrinkles from it. He was also breathing at an irregular pace and his face was strained, as if trying not to blink. Conclusion? He was hiding what we wanted to know and he's a failure at lying. It's obvious what people are feeling if you take enough care to look."

Harry gave a nod and a grin of appraisal, and then glanced away. Draco followed his gaze to the man leading them, who had stopped in front of an office door.

"Miss Chung is inside."

Draco nodded, waving him off, before rapping twice on the door.

"Come in!"

xXxXxXx

Harry followed Draco into the office, where a woman sat typing away on a muggle laptop. She wore a simple white shirt dress with a bright blue neckerchief wrapped loosely around her neck. Her hair was long — albeit not nearly as long as Avril's — and intentionally messy. Straight bangs accented her large brown eyes, which were dark even against her slightly tanned skin.

Emily tapped the keyboard one last time with a flourish, before leaning back and swivelling her chair to face the two Aurors. "Take a seat." The two men did. "Now, have you two been causing trouble, in which case I'll just take away your membership and kick you out, or are you the two airhead idiots that Phier begged me to talk to?"

Harry could practically _hear_ Draco grinding his teeth in annoyance, and jumped in before his (work) partner could do anything rash. "We're Aurors. Phier mentioned that you might have useful information about Robert Wyclyve for us."

Emily pouted. "It's no fun if you don't rise to the bait. You can't just filter through my insults like that."

"Sorry to disappoint. Had a lot of practice is all," Harry joked, glancing at Draco. They had been, after all, enemies at one time, and when they became friends, one of the first things Harry had to learn was to ignore, ignore, and ignore all of the insults Draco threw his way just because it was fun.

"Oh, very well." Emily replied dryly before sobering. "What do you need to know?"

"What is your relationship with Robert Wyclyve?"

"We used to be…acquaintances, you might call it? He used to drop by the club quite a bit." She shrugged. "Our 'companies'"—she made air quotes with her fingers—"constantly owed each other favours, so we worked together quite a bit."

"Is that the extent of your relationship?"

"Well, for a while I thought not, but that's all I think it'll ever be now," Emily sneered.

"Elaborate," drawled Draco.

"He was always so fickle. It was always 'You're so important to me, Emily' or 'You look so beautiful today, Emily' or 'Let's hang out at Red Box all night together, just the two of us, okay, Emily?" Emily made a distasteful face before continuing. "But I was never important to him when it _truly_ counted. He'd seemingly court me, but blow me off whenever he wanted. I hated him for never being around when I wanted to see him most, but then he would always come back and I have to admit it did pacify me. I think I might have fancied myself in love with him for a while. But then four years ago, he dropped everything. Sent me an SMS saying that he couldn't keep leading me on, that it wasn't 'staying true to his feelings'." She scoffed. "That's Robert for you. Always thinking about what his emotions told him but never factoring in anyone else's."

Harry nodded, leaning over Draco's arm to peer at his record of the meeting. "And you are positive this was four years ago?"

"Uh, duh! I had to get a new phone; I threw my old one into the ocean after I got that SMS from him," Emily replied, giving a little hair flip.

"What did he mean by 'not staying true to his feelings'?" asked Draco.

"He wasn't in love with me, I would assume. Why else would he tell me that he couldn't keep leading me on?"

"Perhaps he was two-timing you? Or maybe he was in love with someone else? Have you considered it?" Draco asked. Harry nearly made a move to tell him not to let on too much, but Draco merely raised a brow at him and Harry sat back down. It was almost sad, how well they could read each other nowadays, Harry mused as Emily made her reply.

"No, I most certainly have not!" The woman fumed. "I have no doubt that he didn't feel the same way about me as I did him, but I think I have the right to believe I was beautiful and witty enough to be the only one on his mind!"

Harry and Draco exchanged a look.

"Are you done questioning me yet?" Emily asked demandingly. "I don't want you here any longer than you have to be."

"Not quite." Draco flipped a page in his notebook. "You mentioned a place called 'Red Box'. What and where is it?"

"It's a karaoke place. If you haven't noticed, we Chinese are the ones who got the karaoke craze going when we picked it up from Japan. There's one in Windsor Plaza, Causeway Bay. They serve lunch, happy hour, in the middle of the night…" Emily trailed off, thinking. "I only go late at night though. Maybe happy hour once or twice."

"Anywhere else the two of you hung out?"

"Mainly here. We hung out at the disco a few buildings down a few times; he always helped me to keep an eye on the competition. Can't have two mobs in one area going after the same businesses. There's also the mahjong place a street over. I suppose we've also been to a few dinners or movies. You know, date stuff," Emily sniffed. "And don't ask me to list those all out to you because I can't remember all those insignificant places we've been to once or twice."

"Will you show us the mahjong club and disco?" Harry asked.

"Why should I?" Emily sneered. "You don't need a membership to get in. Go yourselves. I'm a busy businesswoman. I can't be bothered to show you all around town."

"Perhaps you could write down the addresses for us then?" Harry prompted patiently. After so many years of being an Auror, Harry had become a bit less hot-headed when dealing with people like Emily: the stubborn ones that got off on pissing off others.

As expected, it worked; Emily scribbled the addresses on a pad of paper on her desk, ripped it off, and slid it across the desk to them. Harry picked it up, looked it over, then handed to Draco who did the same before sliding it into his pocket.

"And you've only met in this city? You've never met in Wyclyve's territory?" Draco asked.

"We've met in muggle districts all over Hong Kong before, but never in the territory of Robert's people. He thought it best since some of his goons don't get along with mine."

Draco nodded, watching as the Quick Notes Quill scribble away. "And lastly, what is your relationship with Phier?"

"We've bumped heads a few times. A bit indifferent about here, really, but the head likes her, so I play nice whenever our businesses cross. I don't know her that well. I did owe her a favour, though, hence this appointment," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Very well, that should be all," Draco looked to Harry for confirmation. Harry nodded, and the two Aurors stood from their seats. "Pleasure working with you. If we have any other questions, we'll contact you."

Emily nodded as she led them out, but as she turned around, Harry heard her mumble "Hope you won't have any more questions then. Aurors. Hate the lot of them."

xXxXxXx

"Think we got anything useful?" Harry thought aloud to Draco as they headed away from the hidden city and back towards Muggle establishments.

"I believe so. Wyclyve obviously never let Chung find out anything about his feelings or his relationship for Phier," Draco murmured. "That's something to look into."

"Definitely. We'll ask Hermione about those places she mentioned; they might have been mentioned in those books Phier let Hermione read," Harry agreed. "But that's enough for now. Wanna get lunch?"

Draco grinned. "You bet."

* * *

><p>**Notes:<br>_Ostendis te_ = Show yourself  
><em>釋放你的血名<em>= Release your blood name (The half-blood society gave up their pureblood surnames and everything that goes with those names [money, power, etc] when they entered the society)  
><em>Takayama civitatem <em>= City of the High Mountain (This Half-Blood's city is on The Peak, one of HK's mountains.)  
>Firebird Street = The Firebird is a magical creature from Russian folklore. I chose it because Russia is close to China, so geographically it is possible for there to be common magical creatures living in the area.<br>Also, to clear up confusion regarding Wyclyve name, I want to make it clear that I am aware that it's not a Chinese surname. I did this on purpose, because 1) China does have an immigrant population, 2) Wizarding names are a bit different than muggle names, and 3) Wyclyve has spent time trying to blend into different places; it would only make sense for his name to not be vividly unique for when he's living in England or the hidden half-blood society here.  
>Also, I have recently found out the English word for "sticker pictures". Apparently they are called Photobooth pictures, only when you print them, they come out as, well, stickers. I'll edit the old chapter when I get around to it.<p>

A/N: Hope you guys liked it; I'm splitting this chapter into two again because of its length. Next half will be posted in 2-3 days. Over half of that chapter is pure fluff and no case; I tried to weave more romance development in-between the business-y part of this half, but if you don't notice it, well, you don't have long to wait :)

Please Leave me a review!


	14. July 14th Part Two

Disclaimer: All situations, characters, etc relating to Harry Potter belong to JKR.

A/N: I know I promised to post this chapter two days ago, but I had some RL business to finish before I could edit this chapter. My appologies.

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><p><em>Chapter Thirteen — July 14th (Part Two)<em>

Draco and Harry had decided to stay a few hours longer at the Peak touring before returning to the Hotel to check up on Hermione's research. The Peak was the perfect place for tourists; it was filled with shops and entertainment to fit anyone coming from around the world. The environment was quite a difference from that of the cities. Trees surrounded two beautifully built skyscrapers, with an empty area between the two buildings for visitors to take in the sunlight and fresh air. The sky was blue and free of clouds, which was all the better, since cloudy summer days in Hong Kong was equivalent to clammy humid days. Up so high on the mountain, one could catch a cooling breeze, a brilliant change from that of the cities.

Of course, if you still couldn't handle the heat, the A/C in the buildings was always freezing cold. And Draco could not handle the heat.

"Bloody heat. Does it ever get _any_ cooler?" Draco complained as he scurried back inside the building.

Harry laughed at him. Draco gave him a mock glare, but couldn't help the corners of his mouth from curling upwards. "Ooh! What's that?" Draco's hand was snagged and pulled toward a shop featuring wax figurines and hands. "What's this?"

"Wax-hand souvenirs," the shopkeeper answered cheerfully. "Would you like to make your own? All you have to do is pick your colours, and dip your hands in!" Glancing down at their joined hands, he continued. "Or maybe you could make one together! We have styles for the best of friends, family, or even lovers." He winked.

Draco's eyes grew wide as he realised neither he nor Harry had dropped each other's hand after being dragged over to the wax counter. He glanced at Harry to find his partner staring at him. Draco flushed a bit and looked away quickly. He dropped Harry's hand in the process, all the while contemplating why it hurt to see the disappointment that flashed across Harry's face and why he wasn't nearly as adverse to the idea of he and Harry as lovers as he really ought to be.

"Let's make one," Harry said quietly.

Draco whipped his head back around to stare at Harry. Harry's face was well composed, once again, but in those large emerald eyes staring up at him, Draco could see that Harry was actually nervous. But why would he have reason to be nervous? "Together?"

"Yes." Harry replied firmly at first, but then seemingly registering the strange look Draco realized he must be giving him, started backtracking, "I mean, if you don't want to —"

"No." Draco interrupted, schooling his expression into a calm, emotionless mask once again. When in doubt of your emotions, don't show any. "Let's make one. We're mates, after all, are we not?"

"Yes, of course, as friends," Harry said quickly, looking away. Draco almost thought he looked sad for a moment, but the expression was gone before he could be sure. Draco shook his head at himself. Of course Harry wasn't sad. It was such a silly thought. "We'll make one as friends then."

The shopkeeper smiled happily at them at Harry's words. "We start with the wax, and then the colours. Have you thought about what hand shapes you want to do? A hand jointly made between good friends represents an everlasting friendship," he suggested, waggling his eyebrows at them. "Of course, it means something different for family and lovers. But you wanted to make one as friends, correct?"

"Yes, of course." Draco replied smoothly. "Shall we begin, then?"

xXxXxXx

They ended up making a wax figurine of their hands joined together, as the shopkeeper suggested. After dipping their hands until the wax was thick enough, they dyed it a mixture of red and purples, swirling throughout the wax. Red was a colour of blessing and happiness, the shopkeeper had mentioned, and purple signifying physical and mental healing, and therefore also strength. Harry latched onto the symbolic meanings at once. There was just something about these Chinese superstitions about good and bad omens that interested him.

Afterwards, they had wandered around the building, enjoying their day in each other's company. Draco had dragged Harry into a jewellery shop, claiming that he had to buy his mother a souvenir or she would rip him a new one. Truthfully, Harry didn't think Narcissa Malfoy would like something that was made by muggles, but then again, she may accept it since it was a gift from Draco, whom she adored.

Harry was admiring a golden chain with a feather pendant when Draco sidled up next to him. "Pretty, isn't it?"

Harry nodded absently, turning away from the case. The chain was too expensive to even consider. Not that Harry couldn't afford it, since a good portion of the Potter and Black fortunes were still sitting unused in his vault, but he just wasn't used to spending so extravagantly.

Draco, however, had different ideas. "We'll take it."

"Draco-I-I couldn't buy something like that. It's too much for someone like me."

"Nonsense," Draco drawled. "You've always been golden, Harry. Something gold would suit you nicely. _And_ it's muggle-made, which suits you perfectly since you like muggles so much."

"No, really, Draco, I—" Draco, ignoring Harry's protests, fastened the chain around Harry's neck.

"See? Beautiful. And if the price really bothers you so much, I'll do you a favour and _I'll_ buy it. Consider it a gift from me. Seriously, Potter, treat yourself to something nice once in a while. You deserve it."

And then Draco turned and walked away, conveniently ending the conversation and leaving a very bewildered Harry standing there staring after him.

xXxXxXx

"Hey Hermione," Harry greeted his best friend happily as he plopped down on the chair next to her. "Good day?"

Hermione returned the smile, sitting back in her chair. "Yes, very. I learned quite a few new things about Chinese magical history. Did you know that the wizarding queen from three thousand years ago was a gambolling addict?"

"Er…no." Harry replied slowly.

"Why would someone find that important enough to put into records in the first place?" Draco asked, his lip curling in distaste.

"It caused a series of events leading to the downfall of an entire dynasty."

Both men stared at Hermione, who laughed aloud at their alarmed expressions. "Relax! That was centuries ago! What you might find important, though, is that I've finished going over all of the personal profiles that Avril's given us. I have my own list of possible suspects, but I thought you'd like to draw your own conclusions before you see mine."

"Yes, thank you, Granger," Draco replied as he finished putting their shopping bags into the closet and headed into the parlour to join the two of them. As he took a seat in the remaining chair, Hermione began,

"We'll start with LaBa. Twenty-Seven years old. He's loud, as his name implies, and he's observed as 'annoying, but productive'. He has a strange sense of style, as we can see from pictures of him; he dresses like any other gang member off the street, but in tacky colours and nearly feminine jewellery draped on his head like a hat. That's why he doesn't let his hair grow out longer than a buzz cut; it's because his hair will get tangled with the chains. He's been working for the mafia for a long time, now, sixteen years to be exact. He's in charge of the saunas and spas that their mafia owns, along with loan sharking. He also pitches in at the Disco from time to time. LaBa has never been arrested, not even taken in for interrogation, for breaking any wizarding laws. He has a high disregard for muggle laws, however, and has gone to jail numerous times, and has always been able to afford to bail out. He's been stopped by muggle authorities for creeping out random people on the street more times than can be accounted for and is proud of this accomplishment. He's noted here that he is a self-proclaimed 'badass', to which his fellow members have denied in the margins of his profile.

"The next in the files is Hallah. Technically, she's a level down from Avril and the others, working under Avril. However, she's Avril's most trusted and is allowed to listen in on some meetings that usual people of her ranking are not allowed to know about. Her profile isn't complete, but that could be due to the fact that she's a new member. And by new, I mean, she's only been around for a few months. I have no idea how she became so powerful in so little time; there's nothing written here about it. She rarely hangs out among the rest of the group, however, that can once again be put off on the fact that she's not of the same ranking as the rest of them. She been dubbed the 'gossip queen' in their society; she knows everything that's going on between the half-bloods _and_ the purebloods. However, Hallah tends to follow Avril's lead in many areas, which is why she hasn't gained a spot in the upper class yet. One of these things is clothing style; while Avril sticks to green, Hallah prefers an electric blue. Avril's been teaching Hallah ways to enchant muggle items so they can be used the way the half-blood society uses them, as well as dark artefacts trading. Nothing else about Hallah is recorded.

"Then we have Heart and Kenneth. Heart, twenty-three, and Kenneth, twenty-six, are probably the strongest couple among the upper levels of the mafia. The two of them are practically married, and probably would be too, but getting married would involve the law and the ministry, so they've decided they don't need it. 'Stupid piece of paper that's not worth having our names come up in the ministry', were the exact words they used. Heart likes to sport Easter-pink hair streaks and 'cutesy'"— she made air quotes — "clothes while Kenneth prefers to give a very 'protector-like' image. Ironically, he claims this is to 'scare away the bad guys'. Heart was born to two squibs that used to work in a muggle mafia. They were both murdered while trying to escape capture when Heart was ten, and Heart has fought her way to power under the instruction of her Aunt. Kenneth and Heart met when Heart murdered her Aunt in order to steal her seat in the half-blood underworld's hierarchy. Kenneth was the only one who figured out what happened and somewhere in between their trying to get a one-up on each other, they fell in love, so to speak. They joined forces, and worked their way up the power ladder as a unit until they've reached the highest level. The couple works with everything pertaining to vehicles. They usually deal with auto theft, reassembling, and parking spots. Parking spots are where they block the public parking spots on the street and require people to pay a fee to park there, with a car wash option for an additional galleon. They have also noted here that they're willing to enhance anything vehicle-related with the dark arts for a price. If it wasn't for that fact that we were bound by blood oath, I'd arrest them for that right now," Hermione growled. "Some of their cars fell into muggle hands once, and it caused a lot of trouble. They're violating the Statute of Secrecy by not thinking about the risks!"

"Kenneth's cars drive brilliantly though," Draco remarked dreamily.

"And how would _you_ know?" Hermione snapped.

"Kenneth gave Draco a car after he beat all the street racers with his madman driving while drunk," Harry replied with a shrug. Hermione eyebrows shot up. "What? He did. And then proceeded to drive us to lunch the next day driving the same way, I'm sure, only he was sober."

"I am a perfectly good driver," Draco snipped at Harry, who grinned at him.

"Suure," Harry replied, drawing out the word. "Of course, I was quite impressed with your skills. I'm so proud you didn't crash!" He teased.

Draco narrowed his eyes, a silent _challenge accepted_ message being sent between friends. Hermione sighed and slapped a hand on each of their mouths. "Boys! We are not still in Hogwarts! You two fight like children on a playground pulling each other's pigtails while striving for each other's attention. _Honestly_. You need to focus on the case."

Harry blushed, but nodded, as did Draco. "Please continue."

Hermione waited until both men seemed calm, and then continued, "Heart and Kenneth have been captured by neither muggle authorities nor the ministry before. They're strong in defence spells, and very well versed in the dark arts. They're also very good with finances, and are the richest among the high levels. If the amount that they've reported in is correct, they have a fortune that may even rival the Malfoys."

Draco's eyes grew wide. "That's not possible!"

"If their records are indeed accurate, then I'm afraid it is," Hermione replied sadly. "They've used this fortune to bribe and buy their way through the muggle world. Thus, their connections throughout muggle society are many, and strong.

"However, that doesn't mean that they're acting the role of the Don. Although he is the youngest among the heads, that would be G-man. G-man was admitted into the mafia eleven years ago, which means he was fifteen when he started. He is now the head of the gambolling arena since Wyclyve left. Before, he was in charge of drugs and prostitution, especially those in discos and nightclubs. Frankly speaking, he went from being pimped out to being the pimp. No one knows his history previous to when he joined up with the mafia. According to the records, G-man was hired as a rent boy by one of the past upper-class mafia several times, and this man thought G-man had enough potential to work for him. When he died, G-man took over his spot and became the most successful member his age. As you can tell from the pictures, G-man always wears a blazer with a T-shirt underneath. His fringe is always bleached blond, and he seems to dress as if trying to mock formality. Out of everyone mentioned, G-man was the only one who was truly close to Wyclyve, other than Avril, of course. He and Wyclyve are the same age, and it seems that this fact helped their friendship move along. You see, G-man was surrounded by people older than him who pushed him around when he was first allowed in. Wyclyve helped him adapt, which is why they grew close. Also…" Hermione flushed a bit "G-man wrote here, er, well, you can see for yourself."

Draco and Harry both peered at the words scrawled into the paper. "He's gay. Figures. You think he fancied Wyclyve?"

"It's possible," Draco mussed. "Perhaps that's part of the reason why he's angry at Avril."

"He's probably the most obvious suspect," Harry said. "No matter how you look at it, G-man does seem to be very loyal to Wyclyve. When you were at the disco, G-man seemed angry at Avril for driving Wyclyve away. Now that Wyclyve is back, I wouldn't put it past him to help his best friend and possible crush. I also saw someone that looked like G-man that one day sneaking around a pure-blood area, which Wylcyve was known to frequent when he was hiding in other countries."

Hermione tapped her pen in acknowledgement, "Yes, that's what I thought as well. However, I also thought that we should be wary of Heart and Kenneth. The two are the most dangerous out of all of them, including G-man. In their case, although we don't know what motive they might have, they certainly have the money and power to be a spy. And even if they're not spying themselves, they could always pay someone under them to do the spying for them. Kenneth gave you a car for no reason; I think that's a little suspicious, don't you?"

Harry turned to look at Draco, who was biting his lip in thought. _Draco has really nice lips_, Harry thought, distracted for a moment, _Perfect for biting_. He shook himself and tried to pay attention to what Draco was saying. "That's true. I didn't think of that, Granger. I'll be careful with the car."

Hermione smiled at him. "And that's it. Quite helpful, don't you think?"

"Yes, very." Both Draco and Harry agreed.

"Perhaps we should meet with them and see if they confirm our suspicions. I'd like to meet with Avril again for more information on the mirror, as well," Draco proposed.

"All right, how about tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow sounds good," Harry grinned at his two friends as they got up. They were finally making progress, and might even get a break on the case as well. Brilliant.

"Oh, and Malfoy," Hermione called out, "Your gift came while you were out today. It's on the bed." She blushed again, and Harry felt himself flush a bit himself. He had been a bit bold this time, and _definitely_ didn't meant for Hermione to see the gift this time, but since Ting Ting was the one controlling when the gifts were mailed (so Draco couldn't use his Auror skills alone to track the gifts back to Harry) he didn't have much choice.

Holding his breath, Harry waited for Draco's response to the present as he watched the blond approach the bedroom.

"AN UNDERWEAR BOUQUET?"

* * *

><p>AN: Questions? Comments? Can I bribe you with more fluff for some reviews? Tell me what you think! ;)


	15. July 15th

Disclaimer: All things pertaining to Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe do not belong to me, nor am I making any profit from their usage.

A/N: So a lot has been happening in RL and I spent whatever extra time I had preparing myself for the next bout of insane amounts of RL work, which is why this chapter is so awkward at parts. And then the overload of RL stuff prevented me from my annual trip back to Hong Kong this year, so I can't visit a few places I wanted to for this story. I also started writing this story backwards, so I have a few of the scenes for later chapters already written.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 14 — July 15<em>_th_

Draco groaned, flipping over in bed and squinting at the sun, trying to determine what time of the day it was. It was morning, obviously, but already nearing noon. As his eyes adjusted, Draco watched Harry, who was curled in on himself on the sofa. They hadn't shared a bed since the incident a week ago by unspoken agreement. He really hadn't meant to freak out like that, but Draco wasn't used to waking up with someone else; one-night stands were kicked out before he fell asleep, and Draco hadn't had a lasting serious relationship in forever because he was too _alert_. But after living with the Dark Lord and his deranged followers in his house for those years, could you really blame him for being a little twitchy? He never talked to his partners about it: if they really knew him, they'd understand without him telling them. Draco had never been one for openness and heart-to-heart talks anyway.

Sighing, Draco flipped back over, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if his secret admirer would understand. He hoped so. The notes with the past few days had increasingly gotten more personal, from ordinary things like '_Even though you'd never admit it, I know you like muggle music more than any wizarding band_.' to statements that made him blush, such as '_I bet you have a secret fetish for lace_.' And then the man — it _had_ to be a man, because if someone knew Draco at all, they'd know he was gay, no matter how much he flirted with both genders to get his way — had the nerve to send Draco an _underwear bouquet_ of all things. Made with lacy _knickers_. This was really disturbing, because Draco was positive he'd hidden his kink incredibly well. He couldn't deny that his admirer knew his tastes well, though. For Merlin help him, he had gotten hard just from picking up the gift.

With a groan, Draco pushed himself out of the bed. "I need a cold shower," he mumbled.

xXxXxXx

"See you!" a girl Draco had never seen before waved at what must be Avril as she exited Avril's flat. Since she wasn't looking where she was going, she ran straight into Draco. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry! You must be one of Avril's friends." Draco gave her a terse nod, about to reply when the girl continued. "Well, I'd love to get to know you, but I simply must get going. Bye!" she said hurriedly before apparating out.

"What was up with that?" Draco asked Avril as he stepped into her home.

"That was my sister," Avril replied flippantly, changing her chipatsu hair back into its normal black colour, and shrinking back into her normal height. "She doesn't really want to meet you. She's just saying that."

"Your sister?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Whatever happened to your rivalry? Were you lying to me?" He hissed, his voice dropping to a low, cold tone.

"No! Nothing like that. It's just...family's important, don't you think? I didn't think I can ever forgive her, but then she showed up at my doorstep, telling me she was sorry, and I just - I couldn't just turn her away. I still don't think our relationship will ever be what it used to be, but maybe it doesn't have to be so harsh between us, you know? I'm right, aren't I?" Avril begged, clutching at the cushion that she had been sitting next to. "Please tell me I'm right."

"I wouldn't say it's wrong to want a family," Draco replied tentatively.

"But?"

"How wise would it be to trust her? She did betray you once," Draco reminded her, "What's to say that she won't betray you again?"

"She seemed…sincere. I wouldn't tell her anything of importance, so it should be alright, yeah?"

Draco raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but his face was calm. Slumping onto the couch next to Avril, he turned to glance at her. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with wanted to reconcile with your family. I wouldn't trust them though. Just don't screw up the case because of your sister."

The corner of her lips curled up at his playful glare. "I wouldn't tell her about the case and Robert; that has nothing to do with her. You needn't worry; it won't affect you or your work. Cross my heart."

"I thought you didn't have one," Draco retorted. Avril winked in return.

"Well, enough pleasantries," Avril smiled, placing the cushion down onto the floor. "You wouldn't visit me for no reason; we're not friends, after all. Why are you here? Have you found Robert yet?"

"Well, we'd like to speak with your partners first," Draco replied. "but those profiles you gave us did help. We know a little more about your people, and frankly, I think we've concluded that the most likely suspects are Heart and G-man. Speaking of which, have you ever noticed a strange relationship between G-man and Wyclyve?"

"_Strange_?" Avril drawled. "What are you trying to be delicate about?"

"What exactly was their relationship?" Draco rephrased.

Avril frowned. "What do you mean? They were friends?"

"Just friends?" Draco asked.

Avril scowled and swatted at his head. "You moron. Are you incapable of being blunt?"

Draco grabbed her hand out of the air. "Did G-man fancy Wyclyve?"

"Did G-man—" Avril scoffed. "Of course not. Don't be silly." She wrenched her hand out of Draco's grasp, using it to reach for the half-eaten Cup Noodles on her coffee table, only for it to be snatched away by Draco.

"I'm serious," Draco said, "We think G-man may be Wyclyve's accomplice."

"Well…" Avril hesitated, brows creasing together. "When I met Robert, he was already friends with G-man, so I can't tell you how their friendship started. I know Robert cared for G-man, but I'm positive he was straight. It doesn't matter, anyway, 'cause — and I don't mean to sound shallow — I'm pretty sure Robert really only had eyes for me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I already _know_ that. Stop talking in circles and answer my question."

Avril waggled her eyebrows. "You didn't _ask_ a question," she drawled. "Sometimes I wonder what Harry sees in you."

"What?" Draco frowned, confused.

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering why he'd think you'd be a good…_partner_, is all," the Chinese girl smiled suspiciously.

And Draco knew that look was suspicious because it took him his whole life to be able to really perfect the innocent act completely and as a liar himself, he _knew_ when someone's innocent look was too perfect to be true. Still, a good Slytherin knew better than to attempt at finding out the truth by merely asking, so he filed away the look for later and focused his mind back to the case.

"What about G-man? He's openly gay, isn't he?" He prompted.

Avril nodded. "Yes. I've never seen him in a serious relationship before, though. He loves hiring rent boys though, especially the ones under him—no pun intended, of course." She snickered and Draco gave her a crooked smile in return. "He _was_ incredibly close to Robert — maybe even as close as I was. I never thought before that he might be romantically interested in Robert, but there's always the chance. And he does seem irrationally angry at me for supposedly driving Robert away."

She hesitated then, biting her lip just a bit. "But why does that _matter_? Surely being best friends is enough of a reason for him to stand on Robert's side, isn't it?"

"You're best friends with Wyclyve," Draco reasoned, "and you're keeping the mirror away from him." It wasn't until he spoke the words that he realized it. "How do you know the mirror's safe? Wyclyve set you up in this flat, didn't he? How could you guarantee that he didn't put a secret doorway in? Your lot isn't really the most trustworthy bunch, after all" he sneered.

Avril gave him a glare so strong it was as if his stupidity was so obvious it didn't even deserve words to express. Instead, she stood up, grabbing the shoulder of Draco's shirt and dragging him behind her as she stormed her way down the hall of her flat, stopping in front of a darkened door, looking so terribly out of place in the light and airy home. "Open it."

Draco didn't even twitch. "What's inside?"

"This is where I keep all of my dark artefacts," Avril informed him, arms crossed in challenge "and if you, one of the best Aurors around, can get in past my wards, I'll let you confiscate anything and everything you can get your hands on."

"You'll just stand by and watch me confiscate everything?" Draco asked sceptically.

"Get past my wards and we'll talk," Avril smirked. "I dare you to try."

Draco grinned. "Who am I to back down from a dare?"

And with those words, he unsheathed his wand and pointed it at the door. "I'm getting the basic wards: standard locking charms with anti-portkey and anti-apparition spells…and a password triggered _Reducto_ right on top! Aren't you afraid you'll blow apart your flat with that?"

"That one is only for emergencies," Avril replied, deadpanned. "Continue."

Shrugging, Draco turned back to his task, "I've disabled your _Torrencido_ spell and the _Simulacrum Praepostere_ — wonderful spell, by the way."

Avril's blinked slowly, lips curling upward and clearly pleased. "Isn't it? Turns your body into an inside out phantom, so all you'd see is inside yourself and you don't even have to die to do it!"

Draco smiled. His father had showed him the spell back in third year. The person disabling it had to be incredibly focused, and the wand movement was tricky for someone inexperienced with the dark arts. And Draco was an expert in the dark arts. His father had kept a wide ad extensive collection of books that Draco had studied from his whole life. It all started from his father's influence; Lucius Malfoy had deemed dark arts lessons necessary at a young age and Draco hadn't had a choice in the matter. And then the war came along, and it was simply impossible for one to live in the same house with the Dark Lord — not to mention Aunt Bella — without the any knowledge of the dark arts. After all, according to them, anyway, someone who knew what curses you used also knew what to expect, and therefore, torturing them would be less fun.

Then Potter killed the Dark Lord once and for all (thank Merlin) and Draco was pardoned by the Wizengamot for his crimes, sparing him from Azkaban. By that point in his life, Draco had already gone through over half of the Malfoy library. What followed afterwards, however, was pure luck. Draco had not had any idea what he was to do with himself after the war; no one would hire an ex-Death Eater, never mind the pardon, and there wasn't anything Draco really felt the ambition and interest in doing anyway. It was just another ordinary day; Draco had been picking up some ingredients at the apothecary for some potions he'd been meaning to make when he'd come across a few Aurors and a blocked off building, just around the corner where Diagon Alley ended and Knockturn Alley began. Draco, loving a good mystery, lingered for a moment watching and listening from a few feet away.

"We have to go in!" one of the Aurors had yelled. "They could be dead by now!"

"We don't know anything about the Dark Arts! Just wait until a Senior Auror gets here!" the other, smaller, Auror had whimpered, hanging onto his partner's arm as if it were a lifeline. Considering the spells that had been cast on the building at the time, the second had probably saved his partner's life by stopping him from charging in.

And then there was a _pop!_ and Potter, of all people, appear, confirming Draco's assumption. He fumbled with his wand for a moment, casting a few spell to no results. Draco had shaken his head in exasperation, marching over and taking out his own wand.

"_Malfoy_?" Potter had spluttered. "What are you doing here? This is a crime scene; you can't be here."

"Oh for Salazar's sake," Draco snapped. "You don't know what you're doing. This is a _Feriati Interiori Dissiliunt_ barrier." The three Aurors had stared at him blankly. Draco rolled his eyes at them all. "The internal combustion spell. Blows up anyone who crosses the barrier from the inside of the body. Give me five minutes and then you can rush in in all your Gryffindor glory and save whomever it is that needs the golden boy this time." Potter was stammering a response, but Draco couldn't remember what it was, as he had already began disabling the invisible wall in the doorway. The trick with Dark Magic was that to put it in place, one had to be harsh and full of anger or some other negative energy. In order to dispel it, however, required the gentle, patient unravelling of the spell, cloaked with the same type of negative energy used to create the spell, thereby fooling magic itself until enough of the threads that made the wards whole had been broken, leaving the magic to shrivel up and die on its own.

Draco ended up saving seven hostages from a serial killer the Aurors had been tracking for months.

"Thank you," Potter had told him. "We couldn't have done it without you, Malfoy. Still, how could you have known you'd be able to disable that spell, if you haven't used it before?" he'd asked, narrowing those emerald eyes at Draco suspiciously.

"I didn't," Draco had admitted. But at Potter's softening look, he hurriedly added, "It was just too painful watching you lot fussing around like a bunch of amateurs. And as professional, I thought I ought to take over before one of you got blown up." He'd stuck his nose in the air, trying to regain a look of superiority before Potter started viewing him as some Gryffindorish hero, but it was all in vain, as Potter merely smirked at him.

"A professional, eh? We could use a few of those," Potter had chuckled, before his smile faded. "We've lost so many in the war."

"Bullshit," Draco had snorted. "The Aurors have never been any good. If they had studied even a quarter of what I have, they'd have caught all the Death Eaters before they attacked."

"So join us then," Potter had replied and no amount of Malfoy training in the world could have stopped Draco's jaw from falling to the floor in that moment. "We don't have enough Aurors, and competent ones at that."

"Ex-Death Eater, remember, Potter? They'd never accept me!" Draco had growled, angry at Potter's thoughtlessness.

"They'd accept you if I recommended you," he'd said simply before walking away. "Just sleep on it, okay, Malfoy?"

Draco had thought about it. After a week of sheer boredom, and acknowledging it for once, he went to the Ministry and asked for the forms to apply to be an Auror. Now he was one of Britain's best, second only to Harry Potter, because nobody could ever beat the man who killed the Dark Lord in a race for best Auror.

"Done!" Draco announced. "_Alohomora_." He placed a hand on the doorknob, but did not turn it. Instead, he scowled and tipped his head toward Avril, complaining, "You used blood magic on the lock! Oh, that is really not playing fair. "

Avril's smile could outdo even the Cheshire Cat from that silly muggle film Harry had made him watch. "Never said I was. Playing fair, that is."

"So no one but you can get in?"

"My immediate family can," Avril admitted. "but the rest of the house is warded so only my friends can enter my flat."

"Very well," Draco sighed. "I suppose it's enough to keep Wyclyve out until we get him. Do you want me to put up your wards for you, or would you rather do it yourself?"

"Myself, of course. What, did you think I trusted you?"

xXxXxXx

"So how're interrogations going?"

Harry turned away from the papers he had been studying on the parlour table, a smile splitting his face as he spotted the blond. "Draco! Hi! Everything's going well — really well, actually. I've been to Laba's place. He doesn't know anything at _all_. He doesn't even care that Wyclyve's gone and has no idea he's back. I used legilimency on him too; told him I wanted proof that he was a 'badass'." Harry shook his head. "I still can't believe he went for that. I also stopped by Heart and Kenneth's place. Kenneth wasn't in, but I got to ask Heart a few things. If she's the spy, she's doing a pretty dam good job of acting, because she didn't slip up even _once_."

"So it seems we were right so far," Draco responded, sidling up behind Harry. Harry knew it was only so he could look over his shoulder at the papers — completely platonic — but he couldn't help but wish that it was because Draco wanted to be closer to him. Harry could feel the heat radiating from the Slytherin, his warm breath caressing the back of his neck. Harry's skin was prickling from a brush from the body behind him — or perhaps it was from the blush that Harry knew must be spreading across his body from Draco's close proximity. He wondered if Draco was wearing his gift from the day before. Oh god. A rush of pleasure shot through Harry at the thought.

"-orrow?"

Harry blinked. "Sorry, what?"

Draco gave him a strange look. "What's got your head in the clouds?" He asked rhetorically, continuing without waiting for an answer. "I asked if you wanted to take a break tomorrow; we can find the rest of them the rest after. It'll be Kenneth's birthday, so all of them will be at the club, partying. Avril's invited us. Might as well have some fun while we're working, eh?"

Harry smiled softly, turning around. Even with his backside pressed against the edge of the table, there was only a sliver of air between the two of them. "Very well, what do you have planned tomorrow?"

Draco grinned. "We haven't gone touring in a while. What do you think?"

Harry slung an arm around Draco's shoulders to give him a squeeze, giddy with excitement. He nodded.

"It's a date."

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><p>AN: It's my birthday again! Wow, I can't believe it's been a year already O.O

Please leave me a review? Pretty please?


	16. July 16th

Disclaimer: All things pertaining to Harry Potter do not belong to me, and this story is written only for enjoyment purposes.

A/N: So I'm getting reviews and messages and whatnot from people who point out that half the month has gone by and Harry hasn't made a move at all yet. But you see, Harry's hesitant and hides behind the anonymity because he isn't sure how Draco would react to the secret admirer, let alone Harry himself. I hope this explains the frustration I know some of you are feeling. Don't worry. Harry will get past that soon.

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><p><em>Chapter 15 — July 16<em>_th_

Harry couldn't stand still. He couldn't help it — he was too excited. They were going touring today. It was all Draco's idea, and he absolutely refused to tell Harry what he had planned.

"Where are we going?" He badgered Draco for the tenth time that morning.

"I'm not telling you, Potter." Draco replied as the doorbell rang.

"Hello, hello!" Hermione twittered as she skipped into their room. "Draco, I have your gift. I ran into the bellboy and I told him I could bring it in since he's running late today." She leaned in close. "Might wanna look at it in private."

Draco nodded before he disappeared into the bedroom.

"Harry!" Hermione called out.

"Here!" Harry called out from the parlour, where he was double checking their backpacks.

"So…" Hermione said casually, "a book of gambolling magic history, eh?"

"He likes reading about weird magicks," Harry replied absentmindedly. A second after his reply, he realized what he had just admitted to. "Oh my god. I mean—"

"I know you, Harry. You can't hide stuff from me."

Harry gulped "How long have you known?"

"Actually I suspected that you fancied him since the Ministry's Christmas gala last year," Hermione admitted. "You looked so jealous when Draco and Theodore Nott accidentally walked under the charmed mistletoe. But I only realized the gifter was you a few days ago. You know, that day when you sent the snitch."

"How did you—"

Hermione cut him off. "Avril's handwriting spell. It threw Malfoy off your trail, but not me," she said proudly "I remembered your face when Avril showed it to us. You didn't seem very surprised. So I thought what if you were using Avril's spell to write the notes? Maybe the spell only writes in one font, so even if it was you casting the spell and not Avril, the words would look the same."

"Yeah, that's right. Harry mumbled. "Don't tell him it's me, please, Herm."

"You really like him?" He nodded furiously. Hermione sighed. "Alright. I'll play along. But don't get too distracted! You're here for work, remember!"

Harry smiled. "Thanks 'Mione."

"Granger, you ready?" Draco called out, strolling out from the hallway.

Hermione gave Harry a silent look before Hermione responded, "I don't think I'll be coming with you today."

"No?"

"No," Hermione replied firmly, "I found an antique magical bookstore that I've been meaning to check out. I'll probably spend the whole day reading."

Draco merely shrugged and walked back towards the door. "Whatever. Hurry up, Potter."

"You're not coming with us?"

Hermione gave him a mock-exasperated look. "I'd rather not be a third wheel."

Harry smiled and gave her a hug. "Thank you."

xXxXxXx

"So where are we?"

"Wetland Park," Draco replied as he parked. "The muggles like it, apparently. Something about the importance of nature since it's so rare in the city."

Harry's brows drew together on his forehead. "But you hate the outdoors, especially since it's so humid."

"But you like it," Draco flicked his hand indifferently. When Harry didn't reply, Draco turned to look at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm not always a selfish bastard."

Harry snorted at him and got a soft punch in the arm in return.

"I _do_ how to do nice things for others, you know."

"Sureee," Harry drawled. "So I ought to be thanking you for your kindness, then, shan't I?"

"Oh, you should," Draco laughed. "Shall we proceed?"

Harry nodded as they entered. It was a big glass building, full of bright, raw sunlight that was so terribly rare in Hong Kong. Little pamphlets and diagrams about plants and nature were displayed all around. Glancing to the left, Draco noticed a small souvenir shop and smiled. Perhaps they could take a look there later. His attention was drawn away, however, by a man approaching them.

"Welcome!" he waved. "Are you here for the dragonfly tour?"

"Yes, I think we are," Draco replied coolly, eyeing the man with what Harry recognized as distain. It was expected; the man was the exact opposite of Draco. He was short and dark, and the epitome of everything muggle. He wore what appeared to be designed after a Boy Scout uniform, and probably the reason why Draco's nose was wrinkled in disgust.

If the man noticed, however, he was undeterred in his excitement. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "We're just about to head off! If you'll follow me?"

The two friends did as he asked, along with a few other people gathered around him. They entered a small room just off to the side, where the man introduced himself proudly as 'Billy' and then proceeded to present what must be his co-workers, for they were all wearing the same uniforms. Draco didn't bother to remember their names; he didn't care about this. He did miss the Manor's gardens back in Wiltshire, but parks, in his imagination, at least, were no replacement. Still, he had decided to come to this muggles' idea of nature because he knew Harry would like it.

Merlin knew what he had been thinking when he made that decision, but over the past few days, Draco had come to terms with the fact that there was something growing between Harry and himself. He had considered Harry as his secret admirer before, and had found himself strangely unopposed to the idea. Still, the whole secrecy part of the plan really didn't seem like Harry — he would have expected Harry to come right out and ask him out, not that he expected Harry to fancy him.

Of course, Harry might fancy him _and_ not be the secret admirer. That was the most probable situation, Draco thought. Sometimes it seemed like Harry was sending subtle signals at him, such as that day when they made the wax hands, but then at other times it seemed as if they were only meant to be friends. Draco wasn't too sure how he'd feel about that, if Harry only had friendly intentions and wasn't the admirer at all. His own brain seemed to be sending him mixed signals! At times he felt so happy with Harry that he just wished he wasn't misinterpreting what was between them, but then he would feel torn, as if he owed his mystery admirer something. The admirer, as far as Draco could deduce, was certainly Draco's type. Perhaps even more than Potter was, as far as Draco knew.

He sighed. It was all so complicated; his thoughts all mumble-jumble up in his head. For now, though, he would resign himself to a day of sunshine and dragonflies.

xXxXxXx

Many hours later, Harry and Draco were at Ha Pak Nai, enjoying the sights of the wizarding town. As Draco had chosen a muggle place for the morning, Harry thought it only fair to return the favour by insisting they visit a wizarding area in the evening, at least until Draco was ready to reveal whatever else it was he had planned. Ironic, it was.

They had taken dinner at a little, yet upscale, restaurant in the middle of the town. Plates that had been piled high with seafood of all types, a specialty of the district, were now empty.

"That was _wonderful_," Harry groaned. "I don't think I could eat another bite."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't say no to a drink, though." He tossed a few galleons onto the table, and a few firewhiskeys flashed onto the table. He nudged a cup towards Harry, "Common, let's play a game or something."

And it with that challenge, and quite a number of drinks later, that they finally decided to leave.

They left in a bit of a daze, stumbling out of the door. Harry even ran into a short girl. She looked a bit unusual, since hair had a blue shine to it, but he pushed that thought aside. This was a world full of glamour charms and magic, was it not? He didn't have time to apologize, however, as Draco's exclamation drew his attention away from her.

"Come on," Draco shouted, grabbing Harry's hand, pulling him along as he ran. "We're going to miss it!"

"Miss _what_?"

What they must look like, two men running down the narrow road as if their lives depended on it. A car driving down the road honked and they jumped to the side in sync, just barely avoiding being ploughed over. The driver flipped them the bird, but neither saw it — they had already ran past him. Hand in hand, they blew through the district, hair ruffled by the warm wind, clothes wrinkled from exercise.

"We made it," Draco gasped, doubled over, exhausted. They looked up at the same time, glanced at each other's flushed faces, and burst out laughing.

"That was bloody brilliant," Harry giggled. It was then that he turned and caught sight of what they were there for. "Oh," he breathed.

Draco sat on the corner of the cliff — and wasn't that proof enough of just how drunk he was — pulling Harry down next to him. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

And it was. The sun was a perfect circle of fire, slowly descending into small hills and mountains in the distance. Layers of clouds all swirled together in a jumble of orange, yellow, and gold. The oyster farm looked like black rocks in the middle of a shallow pond — the water reflected the sunlight, and the rest of the ground cast shadows on itself. The colours all overlapped each other, so precise it was as if it was the deliberate work an artist. As if the sky was the canvas and someone had used the most delicate paintbrush, streaking line upon line of the most precious dyes along the cloth. Yet this scenery was something that could never have been caught and created by any artificial colour and paints. No, this was the work of something so much more, something that couldn't even be captured with a camera — only the uniqueness of the experience itself could do it justice.

Harry turned slightly, the sight of Draco in the sunlight making his breath catch. His blond hair had caught in the sunlight, and was in the iridescent orange glow, giving off more of a honey colour than the white-blond it usually was. Draco must have sensed Harry's attention on him, because he turned, nearly bumping noses with the brunet as he did so. Harry could smell the alcohol in Draco's breath — or was that his own?

Both just sat there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes silently. It should have made Harry uncomfortable, being so close to Draco when he didn't know what his partner's reaction might be, but Harry couldn't have felt more content despite it all. The only thing that could possibly surpass the wonderfully giddy feeling in him, Harry thought, would be if he were to lean forward and kiss those sinfully pink lips.

And in a whim of Gryffindorish rashness, he did.

xXxXxXx

Panic licked at the edges of Draco's mind, screaming at him, asking him what the _hell_ he was doing, kissing Harry Potter. Somewhere inside him, a tiny voice was trying to remind him of all the reasons why he really shouldn't be doing this, but it, along with the rest of Draco's conscious thought, was drowned out into the kiss. Nothing had ever felt as delightful, as _right_, as kissing Harry. That by itself should have been wrong in all sense of the word, but he was too far gone to care. Adrenaline was running through his veins, he was so drunk he probably wouldn't even remember this in the morning, and he could not have stopped kissing Harry if his life depended on it.

Harry's lips were soft, warm, and just a bit wet. Every small bit of suction seemed to steal a little bit of his breath away from him. It was like Harry was a dementor, drinking in Draco's soul and slowly driving him insane with pleasure. He felt his arms lift of their own accord and gripping onto Harry's shirt, holding on as if it was the only thing grounding him.

His theory was reinforced when he felt Harry's tongue touch tentatively at his bottom lip. Draco was sure he had died and was floating up to heaven, because nothing should feel as wonderful as this. And then he opened his mouth just a bit and then Harry was there, everywhere. It was terrifying and thrilling and not the least bit sobering — a few more of these kisses and Draco was sure he would pass out from drunkenness.

However, Draco's mind refused to shut up for long, and somewhere by his sixth exploration of Harry's mouth, it started shouting at him about the necessities of air. He pulled away slowly, eliciting a tiny whimper from the brunet. Draco knew exactly how he felt, shock and contentment and sixty other emotions were whizzing through him. He knew he'd be lost if he gave in. Perhaps he already was, but he couldn't be arsed enough to try and figure it out.

xXxXxXx

Harry had dreamed for days on end about what their kiss, when it finally happened, might be like. He had expected it to be rough, like a fight of a different kind of passion from they've always felt about each other. He had not expected it to be sweet, for Draco to taste like chocolate and firewhiskey and something else so unique Harry couldn't describe it. He had not expected to be able to let down his guard and just _feel_. Most importantly, however, was that he had definitely not expected Draco to return the kiss.

The kiss was everything Harry hadn't expected, yet everything he could possibly have wished for.

It was Draco who pulled away first, but before Harry could even wonder if Draco regretted something so perfect, the blond leaned in and rested his forehead against Harry's, putting his mind to rest.

"Bit cliché, isn't it," Draco laughed quietly, "Snogging in the sunset?"

Harry gave a small breathlessly chuckle of his own. If Draco could make jokes, perhaps not all hope was lost. "That only applies to couples."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" Draco teased, bumping Harry's nose gently with his own.

"Would you want to be?" he whispered, afraid to say how he truly felt, despite having been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place. All he could think about was how much he hoped that Draco wouldn't regret this once he was sober again.

Draco didn't answer, just leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on Harry's lips again. "Common, we should go back to the hotel," he said, returning to normal volume. "'m tired."

Harry followed quietly after Draco, mind still whirring with unasked questions.

When they finally stumbled to the car, Harry hesitated. "You really shouldn't drive without a sobriety charm."

"I don't want a sobriety charm," Draco whined. "You drive."

"I'll drive," Harry affirmed. He smiled softly as Draco plunked himself into the passenger seat of the car. It was almost uncomfortably quiet in the car, until Harry couldn't stand it anymore and glanced over at the object of his affections to find him asleep. His lips twitched fondly at the sight of Draco in the moonlight; he was really quite the drunk.

When they finally arrived at the hotel, Harry had to practically carry Draco into the lift and through the door.

"Ngghhh," Draco groaned as he plopped down on the bed. Harry shook his head fondly and helped Draco take his shoes off. Taking one last look at his love, he turned and descended the steps to the parlour where he, exhausted, collapsed on the couch and dreamt of sugary kisses and golden sunsets.


End file.
